The Power of a Song
by Elphaba818
Summary: Jack Dawson survived the sinking, but only because there was someone else on board the Titanic. Someone he loved just as much, if not more, then Rose. Who is this person? What is this person to Jack? Does this person survive, too?
1. Embracing the Past

**To my**** Lucy  ****Potter**** fans, I'm sorry I've been working on this and not that, but I've recently become obsessed with _Titanic_ and this idea just wouldn't leave my head. I promise to keep working on that, but this is going to be high on my priorities at the moment. Please be sure to review!**

**EDIT:**

**I decided I didn't like how I wrote chapter one, so I went back and fixed it. I hope you like the new beginning!**

**EDIT #2:  
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**I've gone back and edited little details here and there throughout all the chapters. Some varying as simple typos to adding a few lines.  
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* * *

><p>It was dark. Dark and quiet. Noise and light from the world above could never reach the bottom of the North Atlantic Ocean floor. Or at least, that was what nature had always intended.<p>

From the darkness above came two bright, translucent blue lights. They fell at a surprising speed, and as they grew closer, it became apparent that the lights were the headlights of two submersibles. They moved silently through the water, going deeper and deeper. The people inside were silent as well, at least for the moment. They were on an expedition. They came out here into the depths of the sea every day for the past three years, hoping they would find what they desired. In the first submersible, Mir-1, Lewis Bodine, the expert about the history of their expedition as well as one of the operators of the robots that they sent out to explore the places that their ship was too big to get into it, checked the side scan solar display next to him. On it, the outline of a massive pointed object was being shown.

"Thirteen meters, you should see it." He said to the man next to him, Brock Lovett. Brock nodded, and quickly looked out the window next to him. At first, no one could see anything out there except inky blackness, but very slowly, the outline of the bow of a ship became visible to the onlookers. It was very old, and had by the looks of it, once been a magnificent luxury liner. Moss was clinging onto the railings and its sides, as though they had been sprouting there for many years. On the very edge of the bow, the name of the ghost ship was just barely visible: _Titanic._

"Okay, take her up and over the bow rail," said Brock to the pilot of the sub, Anatoly Mikailavich. Anatoly nodded, and adjusted the controls in front of him to do as his boss had said. Then he grabbed the microphone that connected to the second submersible next to them.

"Okay Mir-2, we're going over the bow. Stay with us." There was no reply, but the second submersible followed behind them. Silence once again spread throughout the first sub as the men inside stared down below at the ruins of the great ocean liner. It had been eighty-four years since the ship had sank, but the ship had never once been forgotten. The sinking of the _Titanic_ had been one of the most tragic disasters throughout the entire twentieth century, and what made it so famous was because it had been caused by nothing more than a freak accident, plus pure stupidity by the people in charge.

"Okay, quiet. We're rolling," said Brock, grabbing the camcorder beside him and turning it on. He adjusted it so it was looking at him. "I see her coming out of the darkness like a ghost ship," he said in a serious voice. "It still gets me every time to see the sad ruin of the great ship sitting here… where she landed at 2:20 in the morning of April 15th, 1912, after her long fall from the world above…" Bodine couldn't hold back his snicker.

"You are so full of shit, boss," he said, shaking his head at him. Lovett turned away from the window to look him. Seeing the look on his colleague's face, he couldn't help but laugh, too, before returning his gaze back on the wreckage. They were now passing over the remains of the forecastle deck, and Mir-2 was driving aft over the starboard side.

"Dive six," said Brock, continuing his narration to the camera. "Here we are again on the deck of _Titanic._ Two and a half miles down, three thousand eight hundred and twenty one meters. Pressure outside is three and half tons per square inch. These windows are nine inches thick, and if they go, it's sayonara in two microseconds… Alright," he added once he shut off the camcorder. "Enough of that bullshit. Just put us down on the roof of the Officer's Quarter's like yesterday," he told Anatoly.

"Sure," he said as he reached for the microphone again. "Okay Mir-2, we're landing right over the Grand Staircase. You guys set to launch?"

"Yeah, Brock, launching _Dunkin_ now." Cueing his words, the robot called _Dunkin_ that was controlled from the operators on Mir-2 was released from the sub, and slowly began to descend down into the wreckage of the ship. "Okay, Brock, we're dropping down along the hull."

"Yeah, roger that," Brock replied, taking the mike from Anatoly as Lewis started to put on a pair of 3-D glasses labeled with the name of the robot that was piloted by their sub: _Snoop Dog._ "Okay, drop down, and go into the first-class gangway doors. I want you guys working the D-Deck reception area and the dining saloon."

"Copy that."

Bodine took a moment to sit down and get himself comfortable in his seat before grabbing the joystick that controlled _Snoop Dog,_ and began to work the machine.

"_Snoop Dog_ is on the move. We're headed down the stairwell." Brock told the men in the other sub as Bodine drove the robot down toward the nearest entrance into the remains of the ship. Brock then shut the mike off and turned to Bodine. "Okay, Lewis, drop down to B-Deck. Get in there." Lewis silently drove _Snoop Dog _into a window on the B-Deck levels. They were all silent as they watched the screen projecting what the underwater camera attached to the robot showed what it was pointing at. If they hadn't already been accustomed to the sights in the ruins, they would have been in shock. The ruins of the _Titanic_ were much more haunting on the inside than on the outside. Rusticles hung from the ceiling, giving the impression that one was inside a naturally formed grotto rather than the wreckage of the most shipwreck of all time. Damaged objects such as a broken pair of spectacles and the porcelain head of a child's doll were half buried in the sand that covered the deck planks, lighting up momentarily when the robot's lights shined on them.

_Snoop Dog_ silently glided past them. Brock and his team weren't interested in such things. They had already collected enough worthless junk of the sort during their prior dives. What they were looking for now was something really big. Something of pure myth, and would make them all millionaires if they found it.

"Watch the door frame," Brock said warningly as Lewis steered the robot through the doorway of what had once been one of the first-class promenade suites. "Watch it…"

"I see it! I got it!" Bodine said reassuringly as _Snoop Dog_ went in without problem. "We're good. Just chill, boss."

They were in the Sitting Room of the suite, judging by the rusted brass fixtures on the walls and fireplace in front of the crushed remains of an Empire Divan couch.

"Okay, make your turn." Brock instructed.

"Cable out, Captain," said Bodine as he adjusted the controls.

"Make your turn. Watch the wall." Brock warned.

"Brock," said the intercom next to them that connected to Mir-2. "We're at the piano. You copy?"

"Copy that." He replied, still focusing on _Snoop Dog._ "Right there," he said to Bodine, pointing at another doorway in the suite. "That's it. That's the bedroom door!"

"I see it!" Lewis said excitedly as he drove _Snoop Dog_ through the door. "We're in! We're in, baby! We're there!"

"That's Hockley's bed," said Brock as he stared at the projection from the camera of the eroded wood of the bedpost. "That's where the son of a bitch slept…" Lewis chuckled, and turned _Snoop Dog_ to be facing the remains of the bathroom. The tub was full of algae, and fish were swimming about inside it.

"Oops. Somebody left the water running," he joked.

"Hold it, just a second," said Brock suddenly. "Go back to the right." Bodine did as he said, and turned the robot so it was facing the closet. "That wardrobe door… Get closer…"

"You smelling something, boss?" Bodine asked.

"I want to see what's under it," he explained.

"Give me my hands, man!" Bodine said as he pressed a few buttons on the keypad. Instantly, two robotic arms came out from the sides of _Snoop Dog,_ and slowly latched on to the sides of the door. "All right!"

"Take it easy," Brock said. "It might come apart."

"Okay." Ever so slowly, Lewis began to lift the door off the ruins of the floor.

"Okay, go! Flip it over!" Brock urged. "Go! Turn it over! Keep going! Go!" Bodine spun the door around at his words. "Okay, drop it!" He did as he said, and they had to wait a few seconds for the sand to clear away to see what had been underneath the door. They all grinned and cheered when they finally got a clear image on the screen.

"Oh, baby! Are you seeing this, boss?" Lewis cheered. Brock nodded, grinning from ear to ear. They had at last found it. It was the holy grail of the _Titanic:_ Hockley's steel combination safe.

"It's payday, boys," Brock whispered.

* * *

><p>"Cha-ching!" Lewis shouted later when they were all back on board the Russian research ship, the <em>Keldysh,<em> which was the headquarters of their operation. Everyone on the ship was gathering around the safe. This was it. After three long years, they were finally going to unravel the greatest mystery of all when it came to the _Titanic._ As Brock ran over with the documentary crew he had hired to film this historic moment, Bobby Buell, the representative of the expedition's sponsors, rushed over as well. He too was eager to witness this. After three years, he could finally call up his own boss and tell him that the money he had spent on this project had not gone to waste, and that they had finally found it.

"We did it, Bobby!" Brock said excitedly as they walked over to the safe that the crewmen were lowering onto the deck.

"We brought it back!" Bobby shouted back over the cheers of the crew.

"Oh, yeah!" Lewis screamed in joy. "You the man! Who's the best, baby? Say it! Say it!"

"You are, Lewis!" Brock shouted as one crewman began working a mechanical saw to cut loose the hinges of the safe's door. "Bobby, my cigar!" he said suddenly, remembering the promise he had made to himself over three years ago.

"Right here!" Buell said, taking it out of his pocket and handing him the unwrapped tobacco right as the technician finished sawing through the hinges. Another crewman quickly attached a metal hook and chain around the handle so as to pry it looses.

"Okay, crack her open!" Brock said, preparing to unwrap the cigar. The crewman nodded, and tugged on the chain. The door clanged loudly as it landed on the deck, and out flowed wet sand followed by the soggy remains of what had once been paper money. Brock got down on his knees, and started to fish through the contents of the safe. At first, all he pulled out was more sand and damp money. He threw them all to the side. They weren't what he was after. When he reached the very back of the safe, he pulled out what looked like it had once been a leather portfolio. There looked as though there were still some papers in tact inside it. To anyone else, this would have been an excellent find, but not to Brock. There was something specific he was looking for, and the portfolio wasn't it. He threw it to the side as well before digging his entire arm inside the safe, trying to find his sacred treasure, but all he felt now was the back of the safe. It wasn't inside.

"Shit…" he mumbled to himself. The crew all became very quiet when they realized what he meant.

"No diamond?" Anatoly asked timidly. Brock shot him an angry look, almost tempting him to repeat his question.

"You know, boss," said Lewis, "this same thing happened to Geraldo, and his career never recovered…" Brock got to his feet, shaking with anger and disappointment.

"Turn the camera off!" he snapped at the cameramen as he stormed away.

* * *

><p>"Brock!" said Bobby a few hours later in the preservation room on the ship, handing him the phone. "The partners would like to know how it's going." Brock sighed as he turned away from the lab technicians that were trying to sift through the contents they had found in the portfolio inside the safe to take the phone.<p>

"Hey Dave, Barry, hi. Look, it wasn't in the safe, but don't worry about it! There are still plenty of places it could be… Hell, yeah!" he said, turning to face the close up television monitor that was showing what the technicians were doing. "The floor debris in the suite, the mother's suite, the purser's suite on C-Deck…"

"Jimmy Hoffa's briefcase!" Buell joked.

"A dozen other places," Brock continued. "Guys, look, you just got to trust my instincts. I know we're close. We just got to go through a little process of elimin- hang on a second…"

Brock bent down, taking a good look at the monitor. The technicians were carefully washing away the grime upon several sheets of papers that had been inside the portfolio. The first sheet of paper was a drawing. An aged, yellowing charcoal drawing of a young woman. Though its edges were somewhat fragmented, it was still in excellent condition. The woman was in either in her late teens, or early twenties, and had been captured perfectly by whoever the artist had been that had drawn her. She was completely nude aside from a beautiful, heart-shaped necklace she was wearing. She was lying down, posing modestly, upon an Empire divan couch.

The next two papers were filled with musical notes. The words beneath them were water-worn and faded, but still somewhat eligible. At the top of the first page where the title should be, was the word:_** Untitled.**_ Under that, in small letters, were the words: _**Dedicated to Jack, And The Woman Who I Hope He'll Marry One Day, Rose.**_ The song cut off abruptly in the middle of the second page. It had never been finished.

The last paper was a photograph. A photograph of three people, which included the woman from the drawing. She wore a beautiful, short-sleeved dress with a sash around her waist as her bright, curly hair cascaded down her shoulders. She was clearly of upper class descent, but her face, instead of being stoic and placid, was full of joy and life as she smiled happily to the camera along with her two companions, who both looked to be of third-class. To the right of her was a young man, who looked as though he was about the same age as her. His hair was very light-colored, and slightly longer than the style had been during the 1910's. He wore a long-sleeved dark jacket, dark pants with suspenders, and leather boots. Like the woman, he, too, was smiling at the camera, and had his left arm wrapped around her. He pulled her so close to him she had her hands on his chest, and had to look over her shoulder just to face the camera. His right hand however, was on the shoulder of the third person, who was standing slightly in front of them. Unlike the man and woman, the third person was much younger than them. A child, in fact; a little girl. She was, without a doubt, related to the man. Her straight hair, which went just past her tiny shoulders, was about at light as his, and they not only had similarly shaped faces and colored eyes, but the exact same smile; although hers gave off more of childhood innocence than the adults' did. She was wearing a simple, dark cotton dress with a fancy wool coat, small leather boots like the man's, and, oddly enough, the same heart-shaped necklace the woman had been wearing in the charcoal drawing. She was gently touching the edges of it as she hugged an inexpensive, but still regal looking nutcracker with a white beard to her chest under the same arm, since her other hand was on top of the man's hand on her shoulder. He was dressed smartly in a fancy suit, and held a toy wooden sword in his hand and had a tiny crown on top of his head.

"Let me see those!" Brock said excitedly, thrusting the phone over to Bobby as he ran over to the table the technicians were working on.

"We might have something here, guys!" Bobby said to the men on the phone, hearing them ask what was going on.

"Where's the photograph of the necklace?" Brock demanded, his eyes trailing back and forth between the papers.

"We'll call you right back!" Bobby said before hanging up so he could see, too, while pointing at the corner of the table. Brock grabbed it and held it next to the papers. The incomplete song didn't mean much to him. What he cared about was the photograph and the drawing. Sure enough, the picture of the diamond matched the necklace the woman in the drawing was wearing, and that the little girl in the photograph was wearing. With careful fingers, he wiped away the sand at the bottom of the papers.

In tiny letters in the bottom corner of the drawing, was the date along with the initials of the artist: _**April 14**__**th**__**, 1912, J.D.,**_ in the bottom corner of both pages of the score of the song were, like on the drawing, the initials and date: _**Edited on April 14**__**th**__**, 1912, C.D., **_and in the lower right corner of the photograph was the date along with three sets of initials: _**April 14**__**th**__**, 1912; C.D., R.D.B., and J.D.**_

"I'll be goddamned…" Brock whispered to himself.

* * *

><p>In Santa Monica, California, an old man was cutting up his eggs in front of him as he clicked on the television. His wife was outside; busy throwing some clay on a pottery wheel while their granddaughter prepared some bacon in the frying pan. When he saw what the news report was on, he literally dropped his fork.<p>

"Honey?"

"Hm? Yes, dear?"

"Come here for a second. There's a news report on the television about the _Titanic."_

The old, white-haired woman paused in the midst of her pottery work and turned to her balding husband of nearly eighty-five years, Jack. He was sitting at the kitchen table, completely forgetting about the plate of scrambled eggs in front of him as he intently watched the CNN news report.

"…Using deep submergence technologies to work two and a half miles down to reach the most famous shipwreck of all… the _Titanic._ Brock Lovett is with us live via satellite from the Russian research ship _Keldysh_ in the North Atlantic… hello Brock!"

"Yes, hi, Tracy. You know, _Titanic _is not just a shipwreck, _Titanic_ is _the_ shipwreck. It's the Mount Everest of shipwrecks. Of course, everyone knows the familiar stories of _Titanic._ You know, the nobility of the band playing to the end and all that. But what I'm interested in are the untold stories… the secrets locked deep inside the hull of _Titanic._ I've planned this expedition for three years, and we're out here using robot technology to go further into the wreck than anybody has ever done before to recover some amazing things… things that will have enormous historical and educational value."

The woman, Rose Dawson, frowned, and turned back to her pottery wheel. It was just another interview with another treasure-hungry _Titanic_ explorer. Another person who boasted about finding the unknown jewels and riches that had gone down with the luxury liner, only to return from the bottom of the vast ocean empty-handed, like so many explorers before them. It was almost painful for Rose to see Jack watching the news report about this arrogant _Titanic_ treasure-hunter, who was merely interested in the valuable riches that was within the sunken cruise ship and the scientific reasons for what had caused the boat to go down. That man, no matter how smart he was, would_ never_ be able to understand the great mysteries of the _Titanic…_ She and Jack, however, were among the few people left that would _always_ be able to understand…

_I can't hate Jack for watching…_ Rose thought to herself. _He's still hopeful…_ She was about to continue her pottery work, but what she heard next made her turn back around in surprise.

"But it's no secret that education is not your main purpose." The reporter stated. "You're a treasure hunter, Brock. So what is this treasure you're hunting?"

"I'd rather show you than tell you, and we think we're very close to doing just that," said Lovett.

Rose, very carefully, arose from her seat, and hobbled into the living room, wiping her hands on a rag. Their granddaughter, Lizzie, saw her get up and rushed over to her.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Turn that up, please, dear," Rose said, stopping beside Jack, and placed a hand on his shoulder. He flinched slightly, but made no other movement. His bright blue eyes were glued to the screen, and held a spark of hope. His hands were clasped together, and were pressed against his lips. He almost looked as though he was praying.

"Your expedition is at the center of a storm of controversy over salvage rights, and even ethics," the reporter continued. "Many are calling you a grave robber."

"Well, nobody ever called the recovery of the artifacts from King Tut's tomb grave robbing," Brock Lovett pointed out. "I have museum-trained experts out here, making sure that these relics are preserved and catalogued properly. Take a look at what we've found just today…"

The video camera shifted off Brock to a table next to him, where four sheets of paper laid submerged in trays of water.

"These have been underwater for eighty-four years," Brock Lovett continued. "And my team are able to preserve them intact. Should these have remained at the bottom of the ocean for eternity, when we can see them now, and enjoy them?"

Jack and Rose could only stare at the screen in shock with their mouths agape.

"Jack…" Rose finally said after several moments, "are those…?"

Jack nodded, smiling as he wiped away a few tears of joy that had gathered in his eyes. Then he turned to Lizzie.

"Lizzie," he said in a choked sob as he smiled to her. "Would you please get the doll that's in the cabinet in mine and Rose's room?"

Lizzie stared at them for a moment, confused, before nodding. She returned a moment later, carrying the exact same nutcracker in the photograph on the television. He was chipped in several places, and the red of his suit and the gold of his crown had long since faded with time, but it was, without a doubt, the same nutcracker.

"Well, I'll be goddamned, Rose…" he whispered excitedly, holding the nutcracker as if it was a most sacred treasure, "I'll be goddamned…"

* * *

><p>On the deck of the <em>Keldysh,<em> Brock Lovett was about to climb into submersible Mir-1 to go back down into the wreckage and find more possible clues about the whereabouts of the necklace, when Bobby rushed over to him.

"Brock," he said, "there's a satellite call for you."

"Bobby, we're launching," he said in a matter-of-fact way. "Can you not see these submersibles going in the water? Take a message."

"No, trust me, buddy," said Buell. "You _want_ to take this call."

"…This better be good," Brock said irritably before following Bobby to the phone.

"Be sure to speak up," Bobby said, giving him the phone, "they're kind of old…"

"Great…" Brock mumbled before bringing the phone to his ear. "This is Brock Lovett. How can I help you…?" He turned to Bobby, realizing he didn't know the caller's names.

"Dawson. Jack and Rose Dawson." Bobby said.

"Mr. and Mrs. Dawson?" _And what do you think is so important for me to hear that I have to put my next dive on hold?_ He thought to himself.

"We were just wondering, if you had found the "Heart of the Ocean," yet, Mr. Lovett?" Said Rose calmly into the receiver that she and Jack had close to their ears, ignoring the perplexed look they were both getting from Lizzie.

Brock almost dropped the phone. Everyone who knew about the diamond was either supposed to be dead, or on board this ship. How on earth did these people know about it?

"I told you, you wanted to take this call," Bobby said, smirking at his reaction.

"Alright, you both have my attention, Jack, Rose," Brock said as calmly as possible, trying to mask his excitement from his voice. "Can either of you tell us who the woman in the drawing is, and who the people with her in the photograph are?"

"Oh yes," Jack said, his eyes still shining with tears. "I happen to be the artist of the drawing you found of my wife, and we're also the man and woman in the photograph as well."

* * *

><p>"They're goddamned liars! Some nutcases seeking money or publicity… or God only knows what!" Lewis shouted. "They're like… that Russian babe… Anastasia!"<p>

"Brock," Bobby said, running over to him and Bodine. "They're inbound!" He pointed over the railing of the boat. A helicopter was rapidly approaching. Buell, Lovett, and Bodine started walking in the direction of the landing pad.

"Listen to me, Brock. This woman says she's Rose Dewitt Bukater and this Jack guy claims to be _the_ survivor Jack Dawson, right? Well, Rose Dewitt Bukater _died_ on the _Titanic_ when she was seventeen. If she'd lived, she'd be over a hundred by now!"

"A hundred and one next month," Brock corrected, "And Jack will be a hundred and two in another four months."

"Alright… so they're very _old_ goddamn liars," said Bodine, still skeptical.

"What about her husband? Jack Dawson? He was for sure a _Titanic_ survivor." Bodine shook his head.

"The chances of this being the _exact_ same Dawson on board _Titanic_ are one in a million, boss! Jack Dawson was a survivor from _steerage!"_ Brock frowned. Lewis had a valid point there. Hardly any men had survived the sinking of the _Titanic_ due to the women and children boarding the lifeboats first rule, and less than a quarter of that handful had been from third class.

"Look, I've already done the background check on these people all the way back to the twenties…" Bodine continued. "This woman was working as an actress back then. An _actress!_ There's your first clue, Sherlock! And here's your second: this Jack guy was working as a composer! The Jack Dawson on board the _Titanic_ was an artist! They moved to Santa Monica right before World War One, and had a couple kids before and after Jack came home from serving in the war!"

"And everyone who knows about the diamond is supposed to be dead or on this boat," Brock shouted over the roar of the helicopter's wheels bouncing on the landing pad. "But _they_ know! And I want to hear what they have to say, got it?"

Before Bodine could reply, the doors to the helicopter opened, and the nearby crewmembers started unloading the luggage. One by one, the three workers unloaded ten suitcases, and, for some bizarre reason, a piano.

"They don't exactly travel light, do they?" Bodine mumbled.

Rose was lowered in a wheelchair out of the helicopter first, with a tiny Pomeranian puppy on her lap, before Jack was brought down, too. He was holding a goldfish bowl with several fish in it. A young woman who looked to be in her early forties hopped out behind them.

"Mr. and Mrs. Dawson," said Brock, shaking their hands. "I'm Brock Lovett, welcome to the _Keldysh."_ He turned to the crewmembers and said, "Alright, let's get them both inside!"

* * *

><p>"Is your state room alright?" Brock asked. He and Lewis were watching Lizzie unpack the luggage as Jack and Rose were carefully arranging several framed photographs on the top of the bureau. The piano they had brought with them had been set neatly in the back corner of the room, where the sunlight could light any music in the stand.<p>

"Oh yes," said Jack, setting the fishbowl on the corner of the dresser. "It's very nice."

"Oh, have you met our granddaughter, Lizzie?" Rose asked, gesturing toward the woman with them. "She takes care of us."

"We met just a few minutes ago," Lizzie said with a smile. "Remember grandma, up on deck?"

"Oh, yes," Rose said, frowning slightly at she tapped the side of her head in her irritation for forgetting that detail. Jack took her hand and gave her a reassuring smile. Bodine rolled his eyes as Lizzie handed the last photograph to Jack, who set it down carefully on the edge of the dresser.

"There, that looks good," he said, smiling at the different photos.

"We have to have our pictures and our piano when we travel," Rose explained. "And Freddy of course. Isn't that right, sweetie?" she asked the Pomeranian. The puppy yapped in acknowledgement.

"Oh, don't forget this, grandpa," Lizzie stated suddenly, reaching back into the suitcase. Brock and Lewis watched in astonishment as she pulled the nutcracker out, and gave it to him. Jack smiled as he looked at it before giving it to Rose, who held it like a most precious treasure. The he turned to the two men at their door.

"We figured you would want us to be able to prove who we are when we got here," he explained as Rose, hesitantly, gave it to Lovett to examine.

"And what better way than to show you the nutcracker that's in the photograph you showed on TV?" Rose added.

"…Can I get either of you anything?" Lovett asked them, giving the nutcracker back to Rose. "Is there anything either of you'd like?" Jack and Rose were silent for a moment as they stared at each other, then they turned back to him and Bodine.

"Yes," Jack said. "We would like to see the sheet music, the drawing, and our photograph."

* * *

><p>Jack and Rose looked hesitantly at the tray of water where the drawing of Rose was submerged in. Rose felt very strange as she confronted her younger, seventeen year old self, whereas Jack felt a forgotten warmth touch his heart as he recalled the memory of when he had drawn her. They tore their eyes away from the drawing to look at the two sheets of music. They silently read the faded, child's untidy scrawl, the dedication beneath it, and what was still eligible of the vocal and piano notes. Rose smiled as she recalled how the song was supposed to go. Jack shut his eyes. It was painful for him to read it, knowing that the writer had never finished it. Rose gently took his hand. He gave her a small smile to show that he was okay. Rose carefully gave the nutcracker back to him. His eyes started to glisten with tears as he held the tiny toy, but he still smiled. Rose waited patiently, knowing he would need a few moments before looking at the last item. A few moments passed before Jack looked up at Rose and nodded. Rose smiled as he grasped her hand tightly before they both peered into the final tray.<p>

Their younger selves smiled at them with happy eyes, completely unaware of the horrible tragedy that already unfolding below decks right when this photograph was taken. The little girl in the picture made them both close their eyes as they remembered her. The way she tilted her head as she looked at them… how she had touched the necklace as delicately as if it were a flower petal… how the sound of her laughter rang with pure happiness… the way her eyes had shined when she had been excited…

Brock walked over to them, holding a photograph of the necklace.

"Louis the XVI wore a fabulous stone," he told them, "called the Blue Diamond of the Crown. It disappeared in 1792, about the same time old Louis lost everything from the neck up. The theory goes that the crown diamond was chopped, too, and was recut into a heart-like shape… and it became known as the Heart of the Ocean. Today, it would be worth even more than the Hope Diamond." Rose chuckled.

"It was a dreadful, heavy thing. I only wore it this once," she said, pointing at the drawing.

"Grandpa," Lizzie said. "You actually think this is a drawing you made of Grandma?"

"Of course it is, dear," Jack said. "Wasn't she just a dish?" Rose smiled at him.

"I tracked it down through insurance records," Lovett continued. "An old claim that was settled under terms of absolute secrecy. Can either of you tell me who the claimant was?"

"I should imagine someone named Hockley." Rose replied.

"Nathan Hockley, that's right. Pittsburgh steel tycoon," said Brock. "The claim was for a diamond necklace his son Caledon bought in France for his fiancé… you… just a week before he sailed on _Titanic._ It was filed right after the sinking, so the diamond had to have gone down with the ship." He paused and turned to Lizzie, completely missing the smirks Rose and Jack exchanged. "See the dates on the photograph, the drawing, and the sheet music?" he asked.

"They all say April 14th, 1912."

"Which means if your grandparents are who they say they are," Bodine said skeptically, "your grandfather drew your grandmother wearing the diamond, are most likely the same Jack and Rose that this song is dedicated too when it was last edited on, and were with the little girl in the photograph that's wearing the diamond. All on the day that the _Titanic_ sank."

"And that makes the two of you," Lovett said to Jack and Rose, "my new best friends. I will happily compensate you both for anything either of you can tell us that will lead to its recovery." Jack and Rose frowned as they shook their heads.

"We don't want your money, Mr. Lovett," Rose told him. Lizzie, Brock, and Lewis stared at them.

"We both know very well how hard it is for people who love money to give it away." Jack explained.

"You two don't want anything?" Bodine said, even more skeptical. Rose turned to look at Jack. He was holding the nutcracker tightly in his hands as he stared at the photograph, his bright blue eyes were filled with tears as they remained fixed on the child.

"You may give us these," Rose said, gesturing to the photograph, the drawing, and the sheets of music, "If anything we tell you is of any value."

Brock Lovett grinned. "Deal." He said before crossing the room. "Rose, over here is some of the things we've recovered from your state room."

Lizzie wheeled her over to a small worktable before wheeling Jack up next to her as well. On the surface of the table, fifty to sixty objects of different sizes and values were scattered about. With a trembling hand, Rose picked up a silver, tortoise-shell hand mirror, inlaid with mother of pearl. She stared at it in wonder.

"This was mine," she said to Jack and Lizzie in awe. "How extraordinary! It looks the same as it did the last time I saw it." There was a slight pause before she turned it over, and stared at her ancient reflection in the cracked glass. "The reflection has changed a bit, since then," she said with a slight frown, placing it back on the table. Her eyes slowly scanned over some more items before picking up a much tinier object. An ornate, art nouveau hair comb of a jade butterfly upon an ebony handle. With a small smile, she turned it over several times in her hands, recalling the last time she had worn it. She could remember being so hesitant and nervous to remove it from her hair, because it had been just before Jack had drawn her wearing the diamond. Jack took her hand and smiled at her as he, too, remembered how she looked with the comb in her fiery red hair back then. Rose smiled back at him. This comb alone had unlocked memories and emotions that had remained dormant in them both for eight decades, and they were now washing over them in a frenzy that could not be stopped. Seeing this in them, Brock decided now would be a good time to continue.

"Are you both ready to go back to _Titanic_?" he asked.

Jack and Rose were silent for a moment before they finally nodded. They were led into the imaging shack. It was a dark room, filled with many television monitors. Each of them was displaying a different image of the wreckage.

"They're live from 12,000 feet," Bodine said, noticing that Jack and Rose were staring at them. "From our two submersibles."

Jack and Rose looked at each of the screens emotionlessly, squeezing each other's hands. They paused as they noticed a screen showing the once majestic bow, and their memories overwhelmed them. That bow had once been so new and shiny. They had once stood there, together. They could still remember the smell and taste of the salty sea air as they stood there. They both still remembered the feel of each other's lips from their first kiss upon that bow. They could still remember how they felt as though they had been flying… And now, that bow-the very same bow-that was currently being projected upon the screen in front of them, was draped in an overgrowth of sea urchins and seaweed, like mutated moss.

Brock and Lewis noticed which screen they were looking at.

"The bow's stuck in the bottom like an axe, from the impact," Bodine explained. "Here… I can run a simulation we worked up on this monitor over here." Lizzie turned Jack and Rose's chairs so they could both see the screen he was referring to. As they waited for the program to launch, he continued to speak. "We've put together the world's largest database on the _Titanic._ Okay, here-"

"Lewis," Lovett interrupted. "Jack and Rose might not want to see this."

"No, no. It's fine," Rose said.

"Yes, we're curious," said Jack.

Bodine started the program, paralleling his own narration to the computer graphics.

"Okay, here we go… she hits the berg on the starboard side, right? She kind of bumps along… punching holes like Morse code… dit dit dit, along the side, but below the water line. Then the forward compartments start to flood. Now, as the water level rises, it spills over the watertight bulkheads, which, unfortunately, do not go any higher than E deck. So now as the bow goes down, the stern rises up, slow at first… and then faster and faster until finally she's got her whole ass sticking up in the air! And that's a big ass! We're talking twenty to thirty thousand tons! Okay, and the hull's not designed to deal with that pressure, so, what happens? SKRTTT! She splits! Right down to the keel, and the stern falls back level, then as the bow sinks, it pulls the stern vertical, and then finally detaches. Now, the stern section kind of bobs there like a cork for a couple of minutes, floods, and finally goes under at about 2:20 A.M. Two hours and forty minutes after the collision. The bow section planes away, landing about a half a mile away, going maybe twenty or thirty knots before it hits the ocean floor. BOOM!"

Jack and Rose merely stared at the screen emotionlessly as the program ended.

"Pretty cool, huh?" said Bodine, indicating the simulation.

"Thank you for that fine forensic analysis, Mr. Bodine," Rose said coolly.

"Of course," Jack added. "The experience of it was… somewhat different."

"Will you both share it with us?" Brock asked.

Slowly, Jack and Rose got out of their wheelchairs and walked back over to the monitors together, which were still displaying the sad ruins down below. Their long since closed off memories began to unlock as they stared at the screens.

Rose could recognize one of the Wellin davits that, surprisingly, were still in place. She could hear the ghostly, enchanting waltz music that had once flowed out of a set of doors near them when two stewards had been kind enough to open them for her when she went inside.

Jack, meanwhile, was looking at another monitor. The cameras from the robot called _Snoop Dog_ were taking him down a long, debris-filled hallway. Jack watched as the endless row of crumbled doorways slid past him, like dark mouths, wanting to swallow him up. He blinked, and he found himself back in that same corridor. At the opposite end was a little boy dressed in his pajamas in an oversized, sopping wet brown coat, who looked as though he was either three, or maybe four years old. He was all alone, up to his ankles in the freezing, icy water. He was crying hysterically, overcome by terror of the situation.

Instantly, screaming, terrified faces in a panic-stricken crowd flashed before their eyes. Some people were crying, knowing that the end was near. Others knelt down on the deck and began to pray for mercy upon their unworthy souls, or to ask their God's to watch over their families once they were gone.

It was too much for them. Engulfed by the memories and emotions they had both felt on that terrible, horrifying night, Jack and Rose started sobbing into each others shoulders, clutching each other tightly, almost as though they needed to hang on to each other in order to keep hold of their sanity.

Concerned for them, Lizzie rushed forward with their chairs. "I'm taking them to rest," she said to the others as she helped them back in their wheelchairs.

"No…" Jack protested, clutching both Rose's hand, and the nutcracker tightly, tears spilling from his eyes.

"Come on, Grandma, Grandpa," Lizzie urged gently.

"No!" Rose cried forcefully. Lizzie stepped back in surprise. Jack and Rose knew that now they would have to tell their story. They had to make Brock and his crewmembers understand that the "Heart of the Ocean" was nowhere nearly as precious as their memories of their time on the _Titanic_ were, no matter how beautiful or rare it was. Only by telling their story, by forcing them to walk in their shoes and therefore share their journey with them, was the only way to do so. Old scars they had believed to have healed long ago would reopen. It would be painful for both of them, but they had to. If not for them, then for the little girl they had both loved that was in that photograph… But how? How could they make these people understand the pain they had been forced to endure?

Brock signaled everyone to stay quiet as he turned on a small recorder. "Tell us, Jack, Rose." He said. Jack and Rose nodded. It was as simple as that.

Rose took a deep breath, and said, "It's been eighty four years…"

"It's okay," he interrupted. "Just try to remember anything… Anything at all."

Jack gave him a stern look. "Do you want to hear this or not, Mr. Lovett?"

Lovett nodded apologetically and stayed quiet. Jack turned to Rose, and, with another small smile, gave her hand a light squeeze, telling her to continue.

"It's been eighty four years…" Rose began again. "And… I can still smell the fresh paint. The china had never been used… the sheets had never been slept in…"

"I can still hear the Irish folk music in the third class decks…" Jack said solemnly. "I hear the joyful laughter… the bagpipes playing in the background…"

"_Titanic_ was called: The Ship of Dreams," said Rose, squeezing Jack's hand tightly. "And it was, it really was…"

And so it had begun. Jack and Rose each took a deep breath, and then slowly, they began to lead them all back in time. Back to the beginning of their life-changing journey…


	2. The Ship of Dreams

**I do not own Titanic. If I did, Cal would have died, not Jack.**

**Remember to review!**

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><p>The gleaming superstructure of the majestic <em>Titanic<em> stood towering before the thousands of people in the swarming crowd. Beyond its white and shiny railing, its huge four buff-colored funnels stood like great pillars against the ever-blue sky, acting as symbols to represent the greatness of the steamer. The crewmen on the decks looked like tiny ants to the crowd below, dwarfed completely by the awesome scale of the luxury liner.

It was April 10th, 1912, in Southampton, England. Today was the day _Titanic_ would set sail for the very first time on its maiden voyage at twelve o'clock sharp, and all of England, rich and poor, young and old, family and friends, had come to see their loved ones board the magnificent, unsinkable ship that would take them to America. The crewmen on the dock moved rapidly in all directions. Although most of the passengers were already on board, there were still lots for them to do. Many were securing the luggage that passengers from first-class had brought with them, and loading the extra cargo that was being brought aboard. Several crewmembers were slowly lowering a beautiful, burgundy Renault car that was hanging from a loading crane, aboard. Others were in charge of providing last-minute health inspections to third-class immigrants. They were checking them for all types of maladies, but mainly for lice. No one in first-class would tolerate sharing the great _Titanic_ with lowly immigrants they could possibly catch lice from.

One man in line to be inspected along with his family, scooped up his daughter so she could get a better view of the ship, and said, "That's a big boat, huh, Cora?"

"Daddy," said the little girl known as Cora Cartmell, "It's a ship!"

"You're right," said her father with a chuckle.

Meanwhile, a fancy white Renault followed by a silver-gray Daimler–Bene were currently navigating through the crowd, honking repeatedly so people would clear a path for them. When they finally came to a halt, the driver of the white Renault hurriedly got out and opened the door. A young woman of seventeen stepped out. She was dressed in a stunning white and purple dress. Her beautiful, curly red hair was pinned back in a low bun, and hidden completely underneath a splendid feather hat. Her emerald green eyes studied the ship with cool appraisal. This regal, first-class woman was called Rose Dewitt Bukater.

A man who looked to be in his early thirties climbed out behind her. He was her fiancé, Caledon Hockley. The heir to the Hockley Steel Corporations in Philadelphia. Despite being extremely handsome and wealthy, Rose knew him to be extremely arrogant.

"I don't see what all the fuss is about," Rose said coolly, unable to bear listening to everyone around her look at the ship in awe. "It doesn't look any bigger than the _Mauretania."_

Cal laughed. "You can be blasé about some things, Rose," he told her, "but not about _Titanic!_ It's over a hundred feet longer than the _Mauretania,_ and far more luxurious. It has squash courts, a Parisian café… and even Turkish baths." He turned to help her mother, Ruth Dewitt Bukater, out of the Renault. "Your daughter is far too difficult to impress, Ruth."

Ruth let out a small, refined laugh, one that Rose knew quite well. It meant she was displeased with her. Then she gazed up at the ship.

"So this is the ship they say is unsinkable," she said.

"It _is_ unsinkable!" He said with pride. "God himself could not sink this sh–"

"Sir!" said one of the White Star Line porters as he scurried over to them. "You'll have to check your baggage through the main terminal. It's around that way, sir."

Cal merely reached into his pocket, and brought out a fat wad of bills, which he gave to the porter. "I put my faith in you, good sir. Now, kindly see my man," he gestured to his personal bodyguard, Spicer Lovejoy.

The porter stared at the enormous tip he had been given before crying out, "Oh, yes sir! My pleasure, sir! If I can do anything at all–"

"Oh yes," said Lovejoy, leading the poor porter around the car to show him all of their luggage. "All the trunks are in this car here, twelve from there," he pointed to the silver Daimler, "and the safe, to the parlor suite rooms B-52, 54, and 56."

Cal checked his pocket watch. "Ladies," he said, "we'd better hurry." He led Ruth, Rose, and her personal maid, Trudy Bolt, toward the gangplank, leaving Lovejoy to continue dealing with the porter.

As they weaved nearer to the gangplank through the jostling crowd, Rose couldn't help noticing a well-dressed young man was cranking the handle of a new wooden "cinematography" camera that was mounted upon a tripod. She recognized him to be Daniel Marvin, the son of the man who had founded the Biograph Film Studio. He was filming his wife, Mary, in front of the _Titanic._ She stood very stiffly, and her smile was very self-conscious.

"Look up at the ship, darling," Rose heard Daniel call out to his wife. "That's it! You're amazed! You can't believe how big it is! Like a mountain! That's great!"

Rose couldn't help but wonder if Daniel Marvin was blinded by his love for his wife to realize that she did not have a single acting fiber in her body, considering the horrible Clara Bow pantomime she was currently doing with her hands raised.

Rose frowned as she paused momentarily to watch them. Being a moving film actress had once been one of her own dreams, until she remembered her place in high society. Girls like her didn't become moving film actresses. They were to marry at a young age to wealthy and successful men, and then spend the rest of their lives providing their husbands with sons to take over their businesses when they were older. In her opinion, it was fate worse than death.

Rose was brought out of her daze when Cal forcefully grabbed her arm, and dragged her toward the gangplank. As he did, two yelling, excited steerage boys, shoved past him as they ran toward the gangplank. He was bumped again a moment later by a man who looked as though he was their father.

"Steady!" he yelled, affronted by the small collisions.

"Sorry, squire," the man said before running after his children.

"Steerage swine," Cal scoffed as he brushed himself off. "Apparently missed their annual baths." Ruth sneered at the small family.

"Honestly, Mr. Hockley," she complained. "If you were not forever booking everything at the last minute, we could have gone through the terminal rather than running along the dock with the squalid immigrant families."

"All part of my charm, Ruth," he said with a haughty chuckle. "And at any rate, it was your darling daughter's beauty rituals that detained us."

"You told me to change," Rose reminded him, using all her willpower to keep her tone tactful.

"Well, I couldn't let you wear black on a sailing day, Sweetpea. It's bad luck."

"I felt like black." She replied curtly. Cal chuckled again.

"Here I've pulled every string I could to book us on the grandest ship in history, in the most luxurious suites… and you act as though you're going to your execution."

Rose just smiled politely to him before glancing upwards. The enormous hull of the _Titanic_ seemed to loom over her small being like a great iron wall. Cal motioned them forward, his arm possessively around hers. Rose felt a horrible sense of overwhelming dread wash over her as they went up the gangway to the doors on D-deck.

_Titanic_ was called the Ship of Dreams to the rest of the world, but to Rose, it was the farthest thing from it. This ship was acting as a slave ship to her. It would take her back to America bound and chained to Caledon Hockley. The moment they docked in New York, Cal and her mother would have her on the first train back to Philadelphia for the Engagement Gala, and then they would be married within the next week. To the world around her, Rose was everything a well brought up girl should be: sophisticated, poised, well-mannered… but on the inside, however, she was screaming at the top of her lungs to be freed from the cocoon of her sheltered, limited world…

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><p>Several blocks away, the <em>Titanic<em> could still be seen from the window of a small, dingy pub. Even from a distance the ship still looked incredible. It completely towered over the small terminal building, and it looked ever so refined, set so perfectly as it was against the blue sky. For one person, however, the sight of the great ship gave mixed feelings. A little eight year-old girl had both her hands pressed up against the window and was staring at the ship fearfully with her bright blue eyes. The words, 'God himself could not sink this ship,' frightened her to no end. In her mind, saying such boastful things was no different than cursing the luxury liner before it even set sail on its maiden voyage. And the story she had been told once by her mother didn't quell her fears… On the other hand, though, that ship was going to America. America was her and her older brothers' home. If she and her big brother were to board that ship, they would be going home for the first time in over three years. That was why she was in that pub, waiting for her fate to be determined.

"Sis, stop looking so glum," said an all too familiar voice behind her. Her blonde hair whipped around her as she whirled around, a joyful smile replacing the uneasy frown she had been wearing. Behind her, sitting at one of the taverns' tables in the middle of a serious poker game, was her one and only eighteen-year-old older brother. Jack Dawson. Like her and their good Italian friend, Fabrizio De Rossi, who was also playing, his clothes were somewhat dirty and rumpled from sleeping in them. And, like her, his hair was blonde, too. It was a little longer than the style was currently, and shadowed his blue eyes slightly. He smiled to the girl.

"C'mon, you don't have to stand there all by yourself, sis. Come, sit next to me and be my good luck charm!"

The girl nodded with a giggle, and skipped over to the empty seat beside him. As she sat down, she noticed what was in the small pile on table as the winnings for the game. Four sets of currencies, an expensive pocket watch, a Swiss pocketknife, three 3rd class tickets for the RMS _Titanic, _and, to her complete shock, a nutcracker. _Her_ nutcracker.

"Big brother," said the little girl slowly, doing an excellent job at masking her rage. "Why exactly is _my_ nutcracker in the winnings pile? I do not recall saying you could bet him!"

"I'm sorry, Clara," Jack apologized. "Blame Mrs. Future Sven over there," he pointed at the Swedish woman sitting across from them at the table with the other two Swedish men, whom he and Fabrizio were playing against. "She saw it and demanded for it to be added into the pile, or else she'd take the tickets out."

"I don't care!" said Clara angrily. "My nutcracker is _not_ going to be used as a winning for this stupid game! Tell her that, Jack, Fabrizio, right now!"

"I already tried, Clara," said Jack sympathetically. "I told her that it wasn't mine to bet, and that it means the world to you. She wouldn't listen."

"_Si,"_ said Fabrizio sadly with a thick Italian accent. "I tried to tell as well."

"Well, then she's about to understand, right now!"

Before Jack or Fabrizio could stop her, Clara leapt on top of the table and seized the nutcracker. The three Swedes roared in anger. Hiding their cards, the two Swedish men roughly grabbed her as the women tried to pry the nutcracker out of her grip while Jack and Fabrizio tried to yank Clara away from the table and the out of the hands of the other men. But Clara wasn't about to give in without a fight. She screamed and kicked and bit the woman whenever her hands came close to reaching her precious nutcracker.

After several minutes of fighting, Jack and Fabrizio succeeded in prying her off the table and out of the grips of the two men, though she still had the nutcracker and the Swedish woman was still trying to snatch it away from her.

"You can't have him!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, tears cascading down her cheeks. The woman, surprised by this sudden outburst, paused to stare at Clara. "He means everything to me! Take our money! Take anything! Just leave my nutcracker! Mommy and Daddy gave him to me! Please don't take him away from me!"

Although the woman didn't speak English, she could tell how much the little girl in front of her loved the little toy. Hesitantly, she stepped away from Clara and said something in Swedish to the two men. They nodded, and then everyone slowly sat back down to resume the game.

"That was a very stupid thing to do, Clara," Jack reprimanded. "You could have been seriously hurt!"

"Better to be stupid and happy then miserable and wise," she mumbled back, hugging her nutcracker tightly as she dried away her tears.

"Jack," said Fabrizio suddenly. "You are _pazzo!_ Now aside from nutcracker, you bet everything we have!"

"Well, when you got nothing, you got nothing to lose," he retorted.

"You moron!" the three of them managed to decipher from one of Swedes out of the little bit of Swedish they knew. "I can't believe you bet our tickets!"

"You lost our money!" the other one snapped. "I'm just trying to get it back! Now shut up and take a card."

The first man did as he was told and took a card. Then Jack turned to the other. "Sven?" he asked.

He hesitantly said, "Hit again," before taking a card. Then Jack silently made a hit, too. His face was completely neutral as he stared at the new card. Not even his eyes betrayed his thoughts. Before anything else could be said, the _Titanic's_ whistle sounded. Final boarding had just been signaled.

"All right," Jack said, looking around the table with a placid expression. "The moment of truth. Somebody's life is about to change." Clara squeezed his free hand tightly with one hand, and hugged her nutcracker to her chest with the other. The tension was making her nervous. "Fabrizio?"

With a defeated sigh, he flopped his cards down.

"_Niente?"_ he asked.

"_Niente."_ Fabrizio confirmed.

"Olaf?" the first Swede tossed his down, too.

"Nothing." Jack turned to the last man. "Sven?"

Looking very smug, the second man set his cards down on the table proudly. Jack frowned.

"Oh... two pair…" he sadly turned to Fabrizio and his sister. "I'm sorry, Fabrizio, Clara."

"_Che_ sorry, _ma vaffanculo!"_ Fabrizio shouted. "Did you bet all our money?"

"How are we going to eat big brother?" Clara cried. "You even threw in the emergency cash–"

"I'm sorry," he continued, silencing them both. "That this will be the last time either of you see Europe for a long time…" Seeing their confused looks, his face broke into a wide grin as he shouted, "'Cause we're going to America!" He slapped his cards down, displaying three red aces, and two black fives. "Full house, boys!"

The first Swede looked livid enough to breathe fire, he was so angry.

The second Swede could only stare at Jack's cards in shock.

The woman grabbed her beer glass and doused it on her idiot of a fiancé as she ranted on in Swedish.

Fabrizio grabbed the tickets, kissing them with excitement as Clara jumped up and down with joy. "You did it, big brother! You did it!" she shouted, hugging him tightly. "You won! You won!" Her anxiety about the great liner had disappeared for that moment. Right then, she didn't care if that ship was indeed cursed from the constant praises by the newspapers all across the globe. All she cared about was the fact that she and Jack were going back to America. She and Jack were going _home._

"_Dio mio grazie!" _Fabrizio cried.

Jack started to collect their winnings, when the first Swede suddenly grabbed him by the collar of his jacket. He raised his huge farmer's fist to clobber him in a whirlwind of savagely bruising punches. He was quickly joined by his cousin's fiancé, who looked about ready to commit murder, she was so pissed. Jack was about to brace himself when Clara scrambled between them with her arms outstretched.

"Don't hit him!" she cried fearfully. "He won fair–"

She cut herself off, roaring in laughter with the rest of the pub. Instead of attacking Jack as everyone had presumed, the man and woman pounced on the third Swede, who lay helplessly on the ground as they continued their assault, their tongues flapping rapidly in furious Swedish.

"Come on!" Jack said, turning to Clara and Fabrizio.

"_Ah, porca Madonna!"_ Fabrizio exclaimed as Jack took the tickets and kissed them.

"Clara, we're going home!" he shouted.

"We're going home…" Clara echoed, climbing up onto her chair, "to the land of the free and the home of the real hot dogs!" The three of them shared a group hug. To onlookers both inside and outside the pub, the three of them looked as though they had just won the lotto, they were so happy.

"We're going home…" Jack trailed off, hugging Clara even tighter.

"_Capito!"_ Fabrizio suddenly declared to all of the bars' patrons. "I go to America!"

"No, mate." Jack, Clara, and Fabrizio stopped celebrating and turned to the pub keeper, who was standing behind the bar. _"Titanic_ go to America," he said, "in five minutes." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. On the wall behind him was a clock that read five minutes until twelve.

"Shit, Fabri, Clair!" Jack swore. "Come on, come on, here!" The three of them started hastily swiping all their things aside from Clara's nutcracker off the table, and into their bags. "Fabrizio! Can you take care of our bags?" he asked.

"_Si, si!"_ Fabrizio cried.

"Clara!" Jack said as he bent down to her level, his back facing his her. "Get on! Quick!" She didn't have to be told twice. She leapt onto his back; her left arm wrapped around his neck to hang on while her right hugged her nutcracker securely to her chest.

And without another word, Jack dashed out of the pub with Clara clutching onto him as tightly as she could to stay on, and Fabrizio chasing after them.

"We're riding in high style now, big brother!" Clara shouted over the roar of the crowd as they sprinted across the pier. "You, me, and Fabrizio? We're a couple of regular swells!" They laughed.

"Yeah!" Jack shouted back. "We're practically goddamned royalty, _ragazzo mio!"_

"You see?" Fabrizio called out behind them. "It is my _destino!_ Like I told you both, I go to America to be millionaire!"

"Look out!" Clara screamed. A horse and buggy came hurtling through the crowd straight toward them.

"Whoa, whoa!" Jack cried, narrowly dodging it as he somehow managed to keep a firm grip on both Clara and the tickets.

"_Bastardo!"_ Fabrizio spat at the driver as they ran past. "Jack, you are _pazzo!"_

"Maybe," he shouted back. "But I've got the tickets!" Clara laughed.

"Hurry up!" she shouted to them, seeing the door to the boat close. "I thought you two said you were fast!"

"_Aspetta, _Clara!"

"Whoa! Hey, wait!" Jack shouted, setting Clara on the ground before running up the gangplank, her and Fabrizio hot on his heels. "Wait, please, wait! We're passengers! Passengers!" He handed the tickets to Sixth Officer Moody, breathing heavily with Clara and Fabrizio.

"Have you been through the inspection queue?" he asked.

"Of course," Jack lied. "Anyway, we don't have any lice. We're Americans, all three of us."

"Right, come aboard." No sooner had the words left his lips did Jack, Fabrizio, and Clara dash straight past him, entering the grand steamer. All three of them were grinning from ear to ear.

"We must be the luckiest people in the world!" Clara said as they hurtled down the third-class corridor, startling many other passengers. "You know that, Jack, Fabrizio?"

"_Si!"_

"You bet, sis!" They ran up a fight of stairs to reach the upper decks.

The ship's horn gave a blasting honk as workers on the pier uncoiled the large ropes from the pilings, freeing the esteemed ship from the docks. Men, women, and children stood by the railings, cheering wildly as the ship made its departure. Jack, Clara, and Fabrizio forced themselves out of the steel stairwell, and ran past them to a small gap in the mini crowd on the poop deck, and up to the railing, waving madly to the people on the docks.

"Goodbye!" Jack shouted, scooping Clara up to have her sit on his shoulders to say her own farewells to Southampton with them, before leaning over the railing to wave as well as the _Titanic_ pulled away from its port. "Goodbye!" Fabrizio and Clara turned at him, puzzled.

"Jack, do you know somebody down there?" Clara shouted over the cheering crowd.

"Of course not," he laughed, "that's not the point!" He turned back to the pier and continued to wave goodbye. "Goodbye, I'll miss you!"

Grinning, Fabrizio joined in, feeling the exhilaration of the moment amongst the thousands of people both on and off the luxury cruise ship.

"Goodbye!" He called out. "I will never forget you!"

"Don't worry!" Clara shouted, hugging her nutcracker with one arm and waving to the crowd with the other as she joined them in their mock farewells. "We'll be sure to write, and we'll come back again someday! We promise! Until then we'll miss you all! Goodbye, goodbye!"

Jack and Fabrizio laughed at the eight year-olds excitement of the moment, and kept waving heartily with the other passengers to the crowd of well wishers down below as the black, metallic wall of the _Titanic's_ hull moved past them, gathering speed with every passing second. To the crowds left on the Southampton pier, the passengers on board looked like impossibly tiny figures, waving their centimeter-sized arms from the gleaming rails as the world's largest, and most luxurious ship, sailed away. Both crowds kept waving goodbye until the other was no bigger than a tiny speck on the distant horizon. The waves caused from the tip of the bow spread against the great, mighty plow of the steamer's hull, and dragged all the way down the body of the ship, leaving a trail of unsettled, rippling water behind the stern, marking the beginning of the maiden voyage of the prestigious _Titanic_ as it sailed down through the ocean toward the English Channel to reach Cherbourg, France, its next stop before sailing on to Queenstown, Ireland.

The decks slowly emptied. Now that they had left port, there was no reason to stay outside when they could have fun and enjoy themselves in the many fine facilities that the _Titanic_ had to offer, or even relax in their rooms. In Jack, Clara, and Fabrizio's case, they had to find their room, first.

They squeezed their way down several narrow corridors, lined with doors to the temporary lodgings on either side. They were having difficulty finding their room with all the confusion going on around them. Mother's and fathers were struggling to keep an eye on their children as they wandered among the great labyrinth of endless hallways, and immigrants everywhere stood helplessly before every sign in the corridors, trying to decode what they said from their pocket phrase books.

Jack wasn't worried about Fabrizio losing them in this crowd. He knew he could easily catch up to them if he wound up getting lost. Jack's main concern was Clara. She was just a little girl in this jumbling crowd. One shove from one of the confused immigrants, and she could easily end up being swept away from him and Fabrizio by accident with some other family.

"Stick close to me, Clair," Jack said as he took hold of her hand, and started to drag her down one of the hallways with Fabrizio following them. "It looks as though it'd be easy to get lost in this crowd."

"'Kay, big brother," she said, nodding as she gripped her nutcracker tighter so she wouldn't lose it. Jack turned his attention to the room numbers before the doors, trying to find their room.

"G-60… G-60… oh, excuse us," he said as they turned a corner, bumping into a small Norwegian family. Fabrizio paused, turning around to smile at their daughter. She was certainly very pretty. "Oh, right here." Jack said, opening the door. The three of them went inside.

Their 'room' was more of a small cubicle than an actual livable room. It had been freshly painted enamel white, and furnished very simply. There was a floor-length mirror in the far corner, two sets of steel bunk beds, and a single nightstand. There was also a bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling. Like the people they had won their tickets from, the two men already inside were Swedish, too, and stared at them as they came in, puzzled.

"How you doing?" Jack asked, walking up to them with Clara in tow. She stayed behind Jack, hiding slightly from the two men as Fabrizio dumped their bags on the bed. "I'm Jack," he continued. "Nice to meet you. Jack Dawson. And this is my kid sister, Clara." He nudged her forward slightly so she could introduce herself.

"H-hello," she said shyly. Jack stretched out his hand to one of the Swedes to shake hands. Staring at them as though he was a first-class passenger, he hesitantly shook it.

"How you doing?" Jack said, turning back over to Clara and Fabrizio. "Hey, who says you get top bunk, huh?" He said, laughing with Fabrizio.

"I want top bunk!" Clara said giddily. "Let me sleep on top!"

The two Swedes just kept on staring at the three of them for several more moments. Finally, the one that had shaken hands with Jack turned to the other.

"Where's Sven and his fiancé?" His companion shook his head and shrugged.

* * *

><p>In the first-class Millionaire Suite, Cal was being escorted around his cabin by one of the room-service stewards. "… and this is your private promenade deck, sir," said the steward, bringing the tour of the rooms to a close as Cal breezed past him without a second glance to look out one of the windows. "Will you be requiring anything?" He shook his head and waved the steward away, sipping at his glass of champagne. What <em>could<em> he possibly require? He had a beautiful fiancé, and was a first-class passenger on board the grandest ship to ever be made by all mankind. Not to mention the richest, at least for the next few hours until John Jacob Astor boarded with his wife Madeline later that day at Cherbourg. He couldn't help but smirk slightly. He felt ever so smug. He intended to spend every moment this afternoon boasting to the other first-class men on being the wealthiest man aboard later on over cigars and a large brandy once lunch was over.

Rose, on the other hand, was in the Sitting Room. With the assistance of Trudy and another maid, she was sorting through the new paintings she had purchased while in France. One of the few, scarce things she was permitted to be able to enjoy as a young, aristocratic young woman, was art. Art was the only thing Rose could use amongst not only her society, but also her mother and Cal, to escape from her confined lifestyle from time-to-time.

"This one?" Trudy asked her, holding up one of the Cubism paintings.

"No… it had a lot of faces on it…" Rose sifted through the packaging they had all been stored in and selected another painting. "This is the one."

"Would you like all of them out, miss?" Trudy asked.

"Yes," she replied. "We need a little color in this room." Lovejoy, who had been ordering the stewards where to put the different pieces of luggage, interrupted them when he saw another one of the stewards enter with a large trunk.

"Put it in there," he directed, pointing down the hall to the bedroom. "In the wardrobe."

"God," Cal said, coming back in from their private deck, "not those finger painting again. They certainly were a waste of money." Rose didn't give him the honor of seeing her anger. Instead, she said to Trudy as she gave her the Cubism painting,

"The difference between Cal's taste in art and mine is that I have some. They're fascinating… like being inside a dream or something. There's truth but no logic."

"What's the artist's name?" Trudy asked her.

"Something Picasso…" Rose replied uncertainly as she selected a painting an artist known as Degas had made of a ballerina.

"Something Picasso," Cal sneered, drinking more of his champagne. "He won't amount to a thing. He won't, trust me," he called after her as she and Trudy walked to her bedroom with the painting of the dancer. Then he added quietly so only Lovejoy would hear him, "At least they were cheap."

Another steward came in, wheeling inside Cal's private safe. "Put that in the wardrobe." Lovejoy instructed.

Rose looked around the bedroom, searching for the perfect place to display the painting. Her eyes came to rest upon the vanity. She gently set it down as Trudy started to unpack her clothes.

"It all smells so brand new," she exclaimed, "like they built it just for us. I mean… just think that tonight, when I crawl between the sheets, I'll be the first!" Rose chuckled slightly. Trudy was the only person she could actually consider her friend. She had always put her friendship with her mistress first, and her duties as her personal attendant second, and so long as she pretended to do vice versa whenever Cal or her mother was around, Rose would always be a good and caring friend to her, just as how Trudy was with her.

"And tonight," a new voice interjected. "When I crawl between the sheets, I'll still be the first." Rose and Trudy turned around. Cal was standing in the doorway, studying Rose with lust in his gaze. Trudy blushed at the innuendo in his words.

"Excuse me, miss," she said, giving a short curtsy before leaving the room. Cal smirked and shut the door behind her. Rose could only blush as she turned toward the mirror, unable to look him in the eye.

"The first and only," he said silkily, walking up to embrace her from behind. If it had been meant to show affection, Rose didn't feel it. She just felt like another possession to him. She was, after all, going to be his trophy wife. "Forever," he whispered in her ear. Rose wanted nothing more than to jerk away from him. The idea of him touching her… of him being inside her… the thought repulsed her. But she didn't let him see her discomfort. Instead, she simply gave him a quick peck on the cheek. She knew what he was like when he was angry, after all…

* * *

><p>It was late in the afternoon when the <em>Titanic<em> docked in Cherbourg later that day to collect more passengers. Rose and her mother were just going down for dinner when they saw the new additions to first-class come aboard. Rose almost immediately recognized the Astor's and Mr. Guggenheim with his mistress, but she didn't recognize the next woman. Her mother must have, though, because she noticed that her entire body became rigid, and her smile became even more fake.

A broad-shouldered woman who appeared to be in about her mid-forties, dressed in a red fur coat and an enormous feathered hat, came shuffling through the door, and, to Rose's surprise, she was carrying her own luggage. A porter came running in after her, mumbling his apologies for not collecting her bags once brought aboard.

"Well, I wasn't about to wait all day for you, sonny," said the woman in a Southern accent, setting down her bags. "Here," she said, giving him one of them. "You think you can manage?" She didn't wait for a reply. She just walked on, the porter struggling to catch up with her again while still keeping hold of her luggage. The woman smiled a genuine, friendly smile to her and Ruth as she passed. It wasn't a smile Rose was used to seeing amongst her society.

"Mother," Rose said in a quiet voice once the woman was out of earshot. "Who was that, exactly?" Ruth wrinkled her nose in refined disgust.

"_That,"_ her mother said distastefully, " was Mrs. Margaret Brown, though she usually insists on being called Molly." Rose glanced back in the direction she saw Molly Brown go.

"She's appears to be rather… interesting…" Rose said carefully, making sure not to let too much of her wonder and admiration of the guts Molly had shown into her voice. Her mother nodded snippily, thinking Rose meant that her behavior was inappropriate for a lady in first-class.

"Oh yes, that's because she's one of the 'new money' people in society," Ruth explained. "Her husband apparently struck gold out west somewhere. She isn't like those of us that have always had money. She still has bad habits from being born poor." Rose nodded, hiding her disappointment. Her mother would surely do everything in her power to keep her away from people like Molly Brown. Rose thought for sure she could have made friends with her…


	3. A Chance Meeting

**Fun fact: I turned seventeen yesterday! I am now the same age as Rose was when she was on board the_ Titanic!_**

* * *

><p>Captain Edward John Smith smiled as he stood on the enclosed wing on the bridge, his hands on the railing as he breathed in the salty sea breeze. He appeared to look every bit of the classic storybook picture captain of an amazing fairytale ship, and in a way, he was. He was a great patriarch of the ocean right now across the globe. He was the captain of the extraordinary <em>Titanic,<em> and as this would be his last time being captain of a ship before he retired, he would go down in history.

It was just past noon. They had left Ireland not even an hour earlier, and already it was nothing more than a brief speck on the horizon behind them, and the only thing up ahead of them was the great, endless ocean. _This_ was the true beginning of the _Titanic's_ maiden voyage. In his opinion, the journey for any ship never really started until it was way out at sea with the land far behind them. Only then could it start, because by then, it was far too late to turn back…

He was brought out of his quiet, nostalgic moment by a sudden movement on one of the lower decks. Then he realized that it wasn't one, but _three_ sudden movements. Three people on B-deck were running right up to the bow. Even from a distance, it was evident that they were from third-class, two young men and a little girl. The little girl was leading the way, playfully being chased right up to the railing by the men. They looked like they were having a swell time, smiling and laughing as they looked down to where the prow cut through the perfect watery surface like a knife, parting the sea into two sheets of glass. Captain Smith himself couldn't help but chuckle as he watched them. Then an idea came to him. He turned to face First-Officer William Murdoch.

"Take her to sea, Mr. Murdoch," Smith said, keeping his eyes fixed on the people at the bow. "Let's stretch her legs."

"Yes, sir," he replied, entering the wheelhouse. "All ahead full, Mr. Moody."

"Very good, sir," Moody said as Murdoch moved the engine telegram lever to _All Ahead Full_. He returned to Captain Smith a moment later.

"Twenty-one knots, sir," he told him. Smith smiled in reply, accepting a cup of tea from Fifth-Officer Lowe as he continued to watch the passengers at the bow. It wasn't much, but he considered his order speed up right now a gift to those steerage passengers. They would most likely never have enough money to board another great liner like the _Titanic_ again. He wanted them to enjoy themselves right now, before they would be forced to leave forever… He wanted them to know the thrill he felt whenever he was flying on the sea…

* * *

><p>"You can't catch me, Jack, Fabrizio!" Clara shouted as she raced down the deck to the bow of the ship, Jack and Fabrizio hot on her heels. "I'm gonna win!"<p>

"We'll just see about that, squirt!" Jack called back, he and Fabrizio pretending to strain themselves to catch up to her. Jack was more than happy to play with her. He knew that Clara didn't have the same childhood he did when he had been her age.

She was only three when their parents died, and because of how young and stupid his grief-stricken thirteen year-old self had been after their funeral, he just took his sister and boarded the first train out of Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin, that he could afford. While their life wasn't perfect, Jack knew he and Clara had a fun life traveling from place-to-place with their friend, Fabrizio De Rossi. But at times like this, Jack would remember how his actions had consequently forced her to grow up quickly from living her life on the road, and now she was being deprived of her chance to enjoy her childhood because of it. So seeing her act like the little girl she was right now made him very glad.

"Ha! Winner!" Clara shouted, slamming her free hand into the railing of the bow to halt herself since the other was holding onto her nutcracker as tightly as possible so she wouldn't accidentally drop him into the Atlantic.

"You like little fast rabbit, Clara," Fabrizio said as he and Jack joined her.

"Wow, do either of you feel how fast we're going right now?" Jack said. Clara and Fabrizio stopped talking to focus on the speed of the ship. Sure enough, they both could steadily feel that the ship was going slightly faster than it had a few moments ago, and since they were standing right at the bow, the feeling of the wind whipping through their hair and clothing was astounding.

"Wow, you're right, big brother!" said Clara. "We're almost flying, we're going so fast!" Jack and Fabrizio laughed and glanced down at the ships' prow. They gasped and gestured for Clara to look down, too.

"Clara, look, look!" Jack said, pointing down at the blue sea. Clara carefully stepped up onto the railing to see what they were looking at. Two sleek, and shiny gray dorsal fins were skimming the surface of the water. "You see them? There's another one, look!"

"Dolphins!" Clara cried, clapping her hands excitedly as he pointed to the third nearby. They soon realized they weren't just watching three dolphins, but an entire pod race against the mighty _Titanic,_ leaping gracefully up in the air every few moments or so. "Wow, look at them jump!"

"I can see the Statue of Liberty already," Fabrizio declared, pointing straight ahead on the horizon at the twinkling sun sparkles. "Very small, of course."

"I'm the king of the world!" Jack shouted out at the ocean blue, deciding to let loose and have fun. He was simply too happy and excited not to do so. He didn't give a damn if the entire ship could hear him. He just whooped and howled to the sea, truly feeling as though he was a king.

"Then that makes me princess of the ocean!" Clara cried out to heavens. She was just too filled with excitement and joy that she couldn't hold it in. Jack smiled, and pretended to bow before her.

"And where exactly are we sailing to today, Princess Clara?" Jack asked as high class as he could be, even managing to squeeze in a little bit of British accent. Playing along in as much sophistication as she could muster up from how hard she was laughing, Clara curtsied and replied,

"To wherever the wind may take us, King Jack!" The three of them laughed. None of them could even remember a time they were as happy as they were right now. They stayed there like that for a while, just looking out at the ocean. Then Clara, out of the blue, started to hum. Jack and Fabrizio grinned.

"Do I sense_ ispirazione,_ Clara?" Fabrizio asked. She smiled and nodded.

"Better hurry then," Jack said, scooping her up onto his shoulders. "We wouldn't want you to forget your next brilliant idea!" They laughed and walked off.

* * *

><p>In the upper decks, Rose was just sitting down for lunch with her mother and Cal in the Palm Court restaurant, accompanied by the managing director of the White Star Line, Bruce Ismay, the ships' designer, Thomas Andrews of Harland and Wolf Shipbuilders, and, to Ruth's dismay, Molly Brown. Rose, personally, was bored. The only thing Ismay appeared to show interest in discussing was his beloved <em>Titanic.<em>

"She is the largest moving object ever made by the hand of man in all history," he said proudly. "And our master shipbuilder, Mr. Andrews here," he nodded to the Irish gentleman, "designed her from the keel plates up."

"Well, I may have knocked her together," said Mr. Andrews modestly, "but the idea was Mr. Ismay's. He envisioned a steamer so grand in scale… and so luxurious in its appointments, that its supremacy would never be challenged. And here she is…" He slapped the table to emphasize. "…Willed into solid reality."

Rose placed a cigarette in a holder and lit it, uninterested in hearing them boast about the ship.

"You know I don't like that, Rose," her mother said sternly. Rose ignored her, exhaling a cloud of smoke right in her face as their waiter approached their table.

"Of course she knows," said Cal, seizing it from her lips and stubbing it out. He paid no mind to her surprised look as he said to their waiter, "We'll both have the lamb. Rare, with very little mint sauce. You like that, right, Sweetpea?" He asked only when the waiter moved on. She only smiled to him. Yes, she did enjoy lamb, but she preferred to have it prepared well-done, covered in mint sauce. It made no difference if she told him this, though. She knew he wouldn't even try to remember.

Molly, however, could see her true feelings on the matter. "You gonna cut her meat for her, too, there, Cal?" She joked. His eyes flashed dangerously and she quickly changed the subject. "Hey, who thought up the name, _Titanic,_ anyway? Was it you, Bruce?" She asked, turning to Mr. Ismay.

"Yes, actually," he replied. "I wanted to convey sheer size, and size means stability, luxury, and above all, strength."

"Do you know of Dr. Freud, Mr. Ismay?" Rose abruptly asked. "His ideas about the male preoccupation with size might be particular interest to you."

Mr. Andrews nearly choked on his breadsticks as he suppressed his laughter. Molly Brown grinned at her cheek. Ruth, on the other hand, was mortified.

"What's gotten into you?" She hissed. Rose ignored her and got to her feet.

"Excuse me," she said before stalking out of the restaurant.

"I do apologize," said Ruth quickly.

"She's a pistol, Cal," Molly said with a chuckle. "Hope you can handle her."

"Well I may have to start minding what she reads from now on," said Cal tensely as he pretended not to be concerned. "Won't I, Mrs. Brown?" Ismay, however, was puzzled.

"Freud, who is he?" He asked. "Is he a passenger?"

* * *

><p>Back on the lower decks, Jack and Clara were sitting together on one of the benches with Fabrizio, but not talking to him or to each other. They both were very busy.<p>

Jack had his art portfolio open in front of him, and was sketching the little girl Cora with her father, who was looking out on the horizon at the railing. If there was one thing Jack enjoyed and was very talented at, it was art. He loved art, and would never give it up. Not for all the wealth in the world. He made sure, precise strokes with his charcoal pencil, gazing up every few moments or so to get a better look at Cora and her father. Fabrizio glanced over his shoulder to see how he was doing.

"Very nice," he said, nodding approvingly. Clara, however, was silent, too engrossed in her own thoughts to notice anything else going on around her.

Like her older brother, Clara, too, had a sheet of paper in her front of her, and a pencil in her hand. However, she was currently was tapping it excessively against the wood of the bench, stumped on what to do next. Unlike Jack's paper, which was full of charcoal from drawing, her sheet was only halfway filled, and had makeshift music bars scribbled across it, with several measures filled in with musical notes. Just like how people needed air in their lungs to breathe, Clara needed music. Music was to Clara as art was to Jack: impossible to live without. Jack glanced over at her.

"Hit a writer's block, Clair?" he asked. She nodded, keeping her eyes glued to the paper.

"You have no idea," she mumbled, biting the eraser of her pencil.

"What are you having trouble with?" Jack asked, peeking at the sheet to see how far she was in her song. "Maybe I can help." Jack didn't know as much about music as Clara did, but he did recognize the basics in writing music for the piano and for vocals. She shifted the paper so he could see it. The title of the song, _'Ode to __**Titanic**__,' _was written in big, bold letters at the top. Fabrizio saw it, too, and chuckled.

"Love the ship so much, you write song?" he asked. "It is nice ship."

"Yeah," said a new voice in a thick, Irish accent. "It's an Irish ship." They turned to see an Irish immigrant in his early twenties was the one who had spoken. Fabrizio was puzzled.

"It's English, no?"

"No, it was built in Ireland," the stranger said. "Fifteen thousand Irishmen built this ship. Solid as a rock. Big Irish hands."

"It's a cursed ship is what it is." The adults turned to Clara, who had turned her attention back to her incomplete song.

"Beg your pardon, lass?" The man asked.

"This ship has been cursed from being determined, 'unsinkable,' by the newspapers. I guarantee it, and it seems like I'm the only person on board that can see that." She stated. "Someone has to tell whoever's in charge here that aside from its size and luxury, _Titanic_ is no different than any other ship. It _could_ sink, and if it does, I know I'm never trusting another ship built in Ireland again."

"What makes you say that, sis?" Jack asked, confused by what she meant. She stared at him, shocked that he didn't remember.

"You don't remem- Ah!" She cut herself off when she saw a group of dogs being walked by a crewmember come onto the deck. "Dogs!" She hastily hid behind Jack, her nutcracker locked safely in her arms. One of the few things Clara was scared of was dogs, having been attacked by one when she was six. The stranger glared at them as they went past.

"That's typical," he said, "first-class dogs come down here to take a shit."

"That's so we know where we rank in the scheme of things," said Jack.

"Like we could forget." The stranger puffed on his cigarette. "I'm Tommy Ryan."

"Jack Dawson," said Jack, shaking his hand. "And this is my younger sister, Clara."

"Hi," Clara said cheerfully.

"Fabrizio." Fabrizio said, shaking hands with Tommy as well.

"Hello," said Tommy, tipping his hat to them. "Do you make any money with your drawings or her music?" He asked, nodding to Jack's portfolio, and Clara's unfinished song. Jack was about to reply, when something, or rather,_ someone,_ on the upper first-class decks caught his attention.

A beautiful girl in a white and yellow dress with her flaming, curly red hair pinned back neatly, walked gracefully over to the railing on the deck and rested her forearms against it. He wasn't much older than her, if even older at all. She stared out, mesmerized, into the horizon at the radiant, splendid ocean, deep in thought. Tommy, Fabrizio, and Clara noticed where he was looking, and turned to look at the girl as well.

"Excellent choice, big brother," Clara said, grinning madly. "She's a pretty one, I must say!"

"Nah, forget it, boyo," said Tommy with a chuckle. "You'd as like have angels fly out o' your arse as get next to the likes of her."

If Jack heard what they had said, he didn't acknowledge them. He just kept staring at the woman, completely entranced by her beauty.

Suddenly, the woman glanced over at them, feeling his stare. She looked surprised to see that they were showing an interest in her. Clara, Fabrizio, and Tommy quickly looked away, but not Jack. It didn't even faze him to know that she was aware that he was staring at her until she looked away. His initial thought was that she was disgusted by his rudeness, but then she looked back, keeping her gaze locked with his.

For a single moment, time seemed to stop for both of them as they stared at each other between the spaces of the well deck, acting as an ocean of in itself between them. They were worlds apart from each other. She was on her promontory; he was on his much lower one. They would most likely never meet or speak to each other, but somehow, Jack felt at peace when he looked at her, and something inside him told him that she felt the exact same way.

Fabrizio waved his hand in front of Jack's face. He didn't even blink. Clara decided to give him some help.

"Don't just stare at her like an idiot, big brother!" She snapped, hitting his arm playfully. "Wave to her!" As if to emphasize her point, she stood up on the bench, and waved her free hand high over her head. The woman looked surprised for a moment when she saw Clara, then she smiled and politely waved back, giggling slightly. "Go on, try it!"

Jack Dawson felt nervous, something he rarely ever was. He started to lift his hand, but then a man dressed it a suit walked briskly over to her, and grabbed her elbow. The girl turned around, surprised at first, but her expression slowly turned to annoyance when she saw whom it was that had disturbed her. They couldn't hear what they were saying, but less than a moment later, the girl walked off, leaving the man standing there alone on the upper A-Deck.

"Oh, that's too bad." Clara said, frowning as they watched the man follow after her while she sat back down. "You didn't get a chance to wave hello."

"Best to forget her, mate," Tommy said, flicking his cigarette into the ocean. "You'll likely never see her again."

"Don't say that!" Clara snapped at him. "Maybe he will!"

"No, Tommy's right, Clair," said Jack sadly, turning back to his drawing. "I probably never _will_ see her again, and even if I did, I certainly would never get a chance to talk to her…"

Clara huffed, setting her nutcracker down before folding her arms. "I never took you to be the type of guy that doesn't even try to defy that," she mumbled before glancing back up at the first-class decks. "Who knows? Maybe you _will_ get a chance to talk to her again, Jack, maybe even before the day is over!"

Although he laughed along with Fabrizio and Tommy, Jack couldn't help but feel as though this was just wishful thinking. That girl was a first-class beauty, and he was nothing more than a wandering drifter. She would never even look twice at him if they passed each other in the street. Still, a spark of hope welled up inside him at his sister's words, and he couldn't help but smile slightly.

"Yeah, maybe I will…"

* * *

><p>Rose felt as though she were suffocating.<p>

It was dinnertime, and she was sitting with her mother and Cal in the first-class dining hall. All around her, men in suits were smoking cigars and drinking down large glasses of brandy, and the women were all sitting at the tables, chatting happily about pointless matters. Cal was holding a conversation with her mother and Lady Duff-Gordon, entertaining them with his brilliant lies as he sipped champagne. The orchestra was playing a slow, heartwarming waltz, and the food and drink were all delicious. It was a perfect dinner party, and everyone was having a wonderful time. Everyone, that is, except Rose.

Could no one here even see her? See how miserable she truly was?

She shut her eyes and envisioned how her life would be like once she married Cal. She would always be attending these frivolous parties, partaking in the same mindless chatter she couldn't stand. Everyday she would be forced to smile, and act as though she were the happiest woman on earth. She would be forced to be the wife of a man she truly hated…

Rose opened her eyes and glanced down at her hand, staring at the ring that branded her as soon-to-be-wed. She wanted nothing more than to tear the blasted thing off her finger, and throw it into a deep ravine by the edge of a great precipice. No… she wanted to jump into it herself. Why bother trying to live on? She wasn't truly loved by anyone. Not by her mother, and certainly not by Cal. The only person who had ever truly cared for her aside from Trudy had been her father. But he had passed away less than two years ago, and now she had no one…

"Sweetpea, your arm!" Cal said, alarmed. Rose glanced down. She had been so caught up in her thoughts, she hadn't even realized she had been digging fork she had been using for her salad into the bare flesh on her arm, and was now leaving a small trail of blood behind.

"Oh, I was so caught up in my thoughts, I wasn't paying attention," Rose feigned, pretending to be startled by this sudden injury.

"Here, I'll escort you back to your cabin," Cal said, starting to stand up.

"Oh no," Rose said innocently. "I can go by myself."

"Are you sure?" Ruth asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, I'll have Trudy clean me up. I'll only be a moment."

She quickly left the table. By the time she was back in her room, she was barely keeping hold of her emotions.

"Trudy?" Rose croaked out as she took off her black gloves. She desperately needed a friend right now. Someone who would tell her that she was being ridiculous and needed to go back and play her part as a refined young woman. She received no response.

"Trudy?" She said again. Silence. Rose sighed and tried to untie the back of her dress. She could barely breathe with it on. She needed to get it off if she were to be able to think clearly. But the ties were complicated and she didn't know if she was untying it properly.

"Trudy?" Rose went over to the mirror with her back facing it so she could see the ties and buttons in the back. She tried to reach behind her again and attempt to undo them, but it was no use. She couldn't reach them.

Rose tore at the neckline of her dress. Her desperation to remove it from her body was conflicting with her common sense. She screamed as she ripped the pearl necklace she had been wearing off her neck, flinging them onto the wooden floor of the cabin. She hated pearls, but her mother had insisted she wear it. Was that all she was to her mother? Someone for her to dress up and present like a doll to her friends?

"Trudy!" Rose called out, ripping the pins out of her hair. The pins scraped her scalp as she tore them out, but she couldn't even feel the pain. She was too hysterical to feel pain right now. Before she could even realize what she was doing, Rose flung all her items off her dresser, screaming in rage. It didn't even matter to her if they wound up being damaged or broken. Why should she bother to care? They meant nothing to her. She would happily trade every diamond she owned to be free of living her life in a tiny cocoon.

When she finally glanced at her reflection in the mirror, she froze. The woman staring back at her was not the Rose Dewitt Bukater she had presented to the people at dinner. Instead, she saw the reflection of a young girl with absolutely no hope inside her. The girl was panting heavily, tearstains cascading down her red cheeks, and her bright, flaming hair was disheveled. She looked so miserable, the girl in the mirror. Miserable enough to end her own life…

At that moment, Rose knew exactly what she had to do. She punched at the reflection in the mirror and flew out of the cabin. All common sense had left her brain. She had to do this. It was the only way for her to ever truly be happy.

She ran down the corridors in the upper decks. She was blinded by her tears, and couldn't even acknowledge the people she shoved past in her distressed state of mind. Feelings she didn't even understand were bubbling inside her: self-hatred, anger, and determination… They, however, noticed her, and were shocked. This girl was showing emotion in public! What a scandal! They didn't even stop to think twice about what could have possibly caused this girl to become so distressed. They just looked down their noses at her as she flung open the gate that separated them from the steerage passengers, and ran down the short flight of stairs.

* * *

><p>Jack and Clara were alone at the moment, lying down together on connected benches to stare up at the night sky. They had had a wonderful day. And they were nearly ready to end it, and continue their voyage when they woke up tomorrow morning, just as soon as they named a few of the constellations, first.<p>

"What about that one, big brother?" Clara asked, pointing at a small cluster of stars in the shape of an hourglass. "What's that one called?" Jack chuckled.

"That's part of Orion," He said, puffing on his cigarette. "The three in the middle of the hourglass is called, 'Orion's belt,' and the two above and below it make up his legs and chest."

"What about his arms, and the rest of his body?" Clara asked, flipping onto her stomach to look at him. "Where are they at?"

Jack was about to reply, when something bright red zoomed past them. Jack and Clara shot up, startled. A woman of first-class, wearing a bright red dress, was running towards the stern of the ship, crying hysterically.

"Isn't that the woman we saw earlier, big brother?" Clara whispered. Jack nodded.

"Yeah, it is," he said. A moment later, he got up, and started walking in the direction she was headed.

"Hey, wait for me, Jack!" said Clara, picking up her nutcracker and briskly followed after him.

* * *

><p>Rose didn't even notice the people following her. She just kept on running until she finally reached the stern section of the ship, slamming herself against the base of the Union Jack flagpole to come to halt. For a few moments, she just stood there clinging to it as she panted heavily, trying to suppress her sobs as she stared at the inky black water below.<p>

_There's no need to be afraid…_ Rose thought to herself. _It's better this way..._ She took a deep breath, clutching the railing tightly as she mentally prepared herself. Then she started to climb.

She hitched up the sides of her dress, and stepped up onto the railing. She clung onto the Union Jack flagpole as she carefully stepped over the railing to stand on the outer edge. She grabbed onto the railing behind her tightly with both hands, staring at the murky water beneath her. All she had to do was let go. She just had to let go of the railing, and she would be free. Free from Cal. Free from her mother. Free of living her life as a first-class beauty. She would never truly be the perfect debutante her mother had always strived to have her become, nor would she ever find someone to love, with Cal as her husband. One jump would end it all.

Her grip started to loosen on the railing. She started to slip away-

"Don't do it."

Alarmed, Rose grasped the railing tightly and turned around. A young man about her age, holding the hand of a little girl of maybe seven or eight, who was staring at her in shock as she hugged a doll of some sort tightly to her chest with her free hand, were standing there. They both appeared to be from third-class, judging by their clothing.

"Stay back!" Rose cried. "Don't come any closer! Neither of you!"

"Come on," said the man, cautiously stepping forward. The little girl behind him snapped out of her stupor when his hand left hers, and moved forward slightly, too, grabbing his hand again. "Just give me your hand, I'll pull you back over."

"No! Both of you stay where you are!" Rose ordered. "I mean it! I'll… I'll let go."

The man took the cigarette he had been smoking away from his lips. He showed it to her, and nodded to the sea. He took another giant step forward, dragging the little girl behind him, and threw it into the ocean. There was silence for a few moments.

"No you won't." Rose and the man turned to the little girl, who, despite clutching the doll she was carrying very tightly, was looking at Rose fearlessly.

"Wh-what do you mean, 'no I won't?'" Rose snapped. "Don't presume to tell me what I will, and will not do, you don't know me! Neither of you!" The girl flinched slightly, but kept her eyes locked with Rose's.

"…Well, wouldn't you have done it already, ma'am?" She squeaked, letting go of the man's hand to hug the doll tightly with both her arms.

"You two are distracting me!" Rose snapped. "Go away!"

"We can't," the man said, taking off his jacket. "We're involved now. If you let go, I'll have to jump in there after you while my sister goes and gets help." The girl nodded, setting her doll down beside his coat.

"Don't be absurd!" Rose said. "You'll be killed!"

"Big brother's a good swimmer, just like me," said the child as the man started to unlace his left boot.

"The fall alone would kill him…" Rose protested.

"It would hurt," said the man as he started to untie his other boot. "Neither of us said it wouldn't."

"To tell you the truth, miss," the little girl piped, "I'm a lot more concerned about the water being so cold than of big brother dying from the jump." Rose frowned, glancing down at the water. She hadn't thought about that.

"…How cold?" she asked.

"Freezing," the man replied. "Maybe a couple of degrees over…"

"…Have you ever been to Wisconsin?" said the girl suddenly as the man took off both his boots. Rose stared at her. Was this little girl actually trying to have a normal conversation with her?

"What?"

"Well, they have some of the coldest winters around, ma'am," she explained. "That's where big brother and I were born, near Chippewa Falls. One of the few things I remember was that when I was little, me, big brother, and our father went ice fishing out on Lake Wisota. Ice fishing is, you know, when you-"

"I know what ice fishing is!" Rose snapped, cutting her off. The girl flinched again, but didn't look away.

"S-sorry," she said. "You just seem like, you know, more of an indoor girl… Well, anyway, I ended up falling through a spot of thin ice. Big brother had to jump in after me to help me get out. So, we of all people can tell you…" She paused and glanced down at the black sea, gripping the railing tightly. "Water that cold, like right down there, it hits you like a thousand knives stabbing you all over your body… You can't breath… You can't think… At least not about anything but the pain…"

"Which is why I'm not looking forward to jumping in there after you," said the man. Rose nearly let go. She had almost forgotten that the man was standing there, too. "But like I said," he continued, taking off his vest, "I don't have a choice… I guess I'm kind of hoping you'll come back over the rail and get me off the hook here…"

"Y-you're crazy!" said Rose, facing the ocean again.

"That's what I tell big brother all the time," said the little girl hesitantly. "But, with all due respect, miss, he's not the one hanging off the back of a ship, here."

Rose frowned. She had a valid point, there.

"Come on…" said the man, slowly stretching out his hand. "Give me your hand… You don't want to do this…"

"Please," the little girl begged. "Take his hand!"

Ever so slowly, Rose unfastened one hand from the rail and took his hand, carefully stepping around to face them. The man and the little girl sighed in relief.

"I'm Jack," said the man, introducing himself. "Jack Dawson, and this is Clara, my younger sister."

"Rose Dewitt Bukater," said Rose, introducing herself to them as well. Clara giggled.

"We'll have to get you to write that one down," she said. Jack and Rose laughed, too. Now that she had decided keep living and not kill herself, the tension in the air around them had simmered down considerably.

"Come on," Jack said, holding her firmly. Rose, unaware of the fact that she was stepping on the edge of her dress, attempted to step back up onto the railing. She slipped and screamed. Jack leaned over the railing, clutching her hands tightly. Clara grabbed her, too, to help.

"We've gotcha!" Jack shouted, trying to reassure her. "C'mon!" Rose attempted to pull herself back over, but slipped again.

"AAAAAHHHHHH!" she screamed. "HELP, PLEASE! HELP ME! PLEASE, HELP ME!"

"Listen, listen to me!" Jack shouted back. "We've got you! We won't let go!"

"You heard my brother!" Clara said, squeezing Rose's hand tightly. "We're not gonna let you go overboard!"

"Now, pull yourself up!" Jack encouraged. "Come on, you can do it!" She nodded, and with Jack and Clara's help, she managed to pull herself back over. As she came back over the railing, she slipped slightly, and wound up not only knocking little Clara back first onto the deck, but Jack, still clutching onto her, fell on top of them both in a rather comprising position, though she doubted that Clara realized that, being so young.

"Are you both okay?" Jack asked, concerned.

"Yes," Rose said, panting heavily. "I'm fine."

"Me too, big brother," Clara moaned, rubbing the back of her head.

"What's all this?" Said a new voice. Jack got off them in alarm. Three crewmen were staring at them. They hadn't realized what a racket they had been making. They should have realized that someone was bound to hear them. The crewmen slowly took in the scene before them. Rose was panting heavily on her back. Her hair was disheveled, and there were tearstains running down her cheeks. Part of her dress was torn, and pushed up to her knees, revealing part her stockings and one of her bare legs. Clara, lying down beside her, was moaning in pain as she rubbed the back of her head, where a bump was beginning to form. The bottom of her tiny cotton dress was pushed up midway to her waist from the fall, nearly revealing her undergarments. Jack had not only his jacket and vest off, but his boots, too, and had been leaning over both of them. It wasn't hard to guess what the crewmen assumed he had been attempting to do.

"You stand back!" One of them shouted, pointing at Jack. "Don't move an inch!" Jack did as he was told. He didn't want to make the situation worse.

"You," said second to the third. "Fetch the Master at Arms!"

Less than ten minutes later, the Master at Arms was placing a pair of handcuffs on Jack, as Clara, horrified by the terrible misunderstanding, fought furiously against the two men that were restraining her from going over to Jack. Like Rose, she had initially been covered in a warm blanket and been given a cup of hot tea by Colonel Archibald Gracie, an acquaintance of Rose's, but when she saw the Master at Arms approach with a pair of handcuff's, she understood why Jack was being restrained by the crewmen. She had attempted to try and explain that she and Rose hadn't been hurt by him, but nobody had listened. Angry, she had then tried to go to him, but the Colonel and Lovejoy held her back, ignoring her protests.

"Let him go!" Clara screamed at the top of her lungs as she struggled against the grips of Colonel Gracie and Lovejoy. "He didn't do anything! Please, let him go!"

"I'm sorry, kid," the Master at Arms said, securing the cuffs. "You'll understand why we're doing this some day when you're older."

"No, _you_ understand, right now!" She spat back. "He's innocent, I tell you!"

"Lovejoy, shut her up!" Cal ordered, walking furiously over to Jack. Lovejoy placed his hand over Clara's mouth. She bit and struggled harder than ever, but her attempts were in vain. Lovejoy was simply much too powerful.

"Completely unacceptable!" Cal spat at Jack. "What made you think you could put _your_ hands on _my_ fiancé?" Jack didn't look at him. He glanced over to Clara, concerned about what might happen to her now that he was under arrest. Then he looked over to Rose. She almost seemed scared of her so-called fiancé. Cal was enraged.

"Look at me, you filth!" He shouted, grabbing Jack by his shirt. He was beyond livid. He didn't give a damn about the screaming girl from steerage, but this _boy_ had attempted to have his way with _his_ fiancé! Something he had yet to enjoy! He would not stand by and ignore this. He would see to it that the boy in front of him paid for what he had done!

"Cal!" Rose protested. He ignored her.

"What do you think you were doing?" He continued. Rose got to her feet.

"Cal, stop!" She shouted, grabbing his arm. "It was an accident!"

This caught everyone's attention. Including Jack and Clara's.

"An accident?" Cal asked, not believing his ears.

"It was," she said, stalling for time to think up a plausible story. "It was stupid, really… I was leaning over, and I slipped."

Jack and Clara stared in disbelief. She was lying for _them?_

"I was leaning far over," she continued, "to see the… um…" she started making a circular motion with her index finger, trying to think of the word, "the… uh…"

"Propellers?" Cal guessed. She nodded.

"The propellers, and I slipped," she went on. "And I would have gone overboard, but Mr. Dawson and his younger sister here saved me," she nodded over to Clara, who started to struggle against Lovejoy again, who, this time, didn't hold her back. She ran to Jack, flinging her arms around him. "And they almost went over, themselves."

"She wanted to see the propellers?" Cal said, laughing uncertainly.

"Like I've said," Colonel Gracie interrupted. "Women and machinery do not mix." The Master at Arms forced Jack to turn around.

"Was that the way of it?" He asked. Jack, discreetly, glanced over at Rose, who gazed at him pleadingly.

"Yeah," he finally said, "yeah, that was pretty much it." The Master at Arms then turned to Clara.

"What about you, miss?" He asked. "Do you agree?" She glared at him.

"The only wrong thing I've seen happen tonight from anyone," she said icily, "are from those three men!" She pointed to the crewmen. Everyone stared at her, confused.

"I beg your pardon?" The Master at Arms asked.

"It they had stopped to find out _why_ Rose and I were on the ground instead of jumping to whatever conclusions they did, none of this would have happened!" She explained. The Colonel chuckled.

"Well, you and your brother are heroes, then," he stated as the Master at Arms removed the handcuffs on Jack. "Good for you, son, miss! Well done!" Then he turned back to Cal and Lovejoy. "So, all's well. Back to our brandy, eh?" Cal nodded, wrapping an arm around Rose.

"Look at you," He said, rubbing his hands up and down her arms to warm her up. "You must be freezing! Let's get you inside." He started to walk away, leading Rose away with him.

"Ahem," Colonel Gracie interrupted. "Perhaps a little something for the boy and his sister?" He reminded him.

"Of course. Lovejoy, I think a twenty should do it." Rose glared at him.

"Is that the going rate for saving the woman you love?" she demanded.

"Rose is displeased…" he said, biting his lip. "What to do…? I know…" He walked back over to Jack and Clara. Jack was putting his jacket back on, and Clara was examining her nutcracker for any dents or chips that may have occurred when she had set him down. Seeing him come over, Clara ducked behind Jack. She already was scared of him, especially after what had almost happened. Cal chuckled at her.

"You don't have to hide," he said, slightly amused by her behavior.

"How do I know you're not going to try to throw me or big brother in jail again?" She retorted. He became very tense.

"My apologies for the misunderstanding," he said delicately. Then he turned to Jack. "Perhaps, you and your sister could join us for dinner, tomorrow evening? To regale our group with your heroic tales?" Jack glanced down at Clara, wanting to know what she thought.

"No handcuff's?" she asked. Everyone laughed.

"No handcuffs." Cal assured her. She turned to Jack and nodded.

"Sure," he said to them at last. "Count us in."

"Good," Cal said with a smirk. "It's settled then." Then he said privately to the Colonel, not intending for Jack and Clara to hear, but they did: "This should be interesting."

Rose glanced over to Jack and Clara one last time before she walked away with them, saying her own silent farewell. Lovejoy was about to follow them, but Jack whistled to him. He turned around, surprised.

"Can I have a smoke?" Jack asked, gesturing to his packet of cigarettes. He wordlessly walked back over, handing him the package and a lighter.

"You'll want to tie those," Lovejoy suddenly said as Jack lit his cigarette, pointing to Jack's feet. He glanced down. He hadn't yet tied his boots. "It's interesting," Lovejoy continued. "The young lady slipped so suddenly, and yet you still had time to remove your jacket and your shoes, Mr. Dawson, and your sister didn't accidently drop that toy of hers overboard from seeing her slip…" With that, he walked away, wanting to catch up to the others. Clara clutched Jack's hand tightly. This man could tell that Rose had lied.

"Jack," Clara whispered as soon as Lovejoy was out of earshot. "Why didn't he say anything?" Jack shrugged.

"I don't know, Clair," he whispered back, shaking his head. "I don't know."

* * *

><p>Rose sat in front of the vanity mirror in her cabin, listening to the melody from the music box her father had given her on her twelfth birthday. She wasn't sure what to make of what had just occurred. Less than an hour ago, she had been absolutely miserable as she sat beside Cal and her mother in the first-class dining room, then the next thing she knew, she was standing on the back of the ship, wanting to jump off and kill herself. Then Jack and Clara appeared, and convinced her not to do it, just before Cal took her away. It was almost like being in a dream, with how fast everything had happened.<p>

Rose stared at her reflection, still trying to comprehend the events. How had they done it? How had Jack and Clara been able to see past the mask she wore in front of everyone and truly _see_ her? It was a gift not even Trudy or her father had had. They, out of everyone she had ever known, had actually made her feel as though she was worth listening too… As though she had a purpose to be alive…

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. Cal entered, holding a small box. She glanced at him through the mirror.

"I know you've been melancholy," he said gently, shutting the door behind him and walking over to her. "I don't pretend to know why… I had intended to save this until the Engagement Gala next week…" he paused to close her music box. She fought back the urge to scowl at him. She truly had no desire to receive any more of his heartless gifts. "But… I thought tonight…"

He opened the box.

"Good gracious!" Rose exclaimed, bringing her hand up to her chest in shock. Even for him, it was too much. Inside the box was a beautiful, heart-shaped cut blue stone on a gorgeous gold chain. Rose couldn't even begin to imagine how much it had cost, or where he had managed to obtain such an exquisite piece of jewelry. Cal chuckled at her surprise of his gift.

"Perhaps as a reminder of my feelings for you," he said.

"Is… Is it…?"

"A diamond?" He finished, taking the necklace out of the box, and placing it around her neck with a grin. "Yes. Fifty-six carats, to be exact. It was worn by Louis XVI, and they called it _Le Coeur de la Mer."_

"The Heart of the Ocean…" Rose translated in wonder, gently touching the edges of the necklace. "It's overwhelming…"

"Well, it's for royalty," Cal said proudly as he stared at their reflections in the mirror. "We are royalty, Rose." He glanced at her and continued. "You know, there is nothing I couldn't give you. There's nothing I'd deny you… if you would not deny me. So open your heart to me, Rose."

Rose glanced at him for a moment before staring at the mirror again as she wrapped her hand completely over the stone, shielding it from both his, and her own eyes. How could she even begin to open her heart to Cal, when he constantly shut it with his meaningless gifts like these? They were only reflections of Caledon Hockley's supreme wealth and greatness, not of his love. Therefore, they meant nothing to her at all, because in reality, she meant absolutely nothing to him…

* * *

><p>"It was a cold stone, a heart of ice," Rose explained, her hand upon her neck as she remembered that day. "Even after all these years, I can still feel it closing in around my throat like a dog collar…"<p>

Jack was squeezing her hand comfortingly. He knew how hard it was for her to remember how it was when she had been engaged to Cal. He himself could remember how miserable she had been back then.

"I can still feel its weight around my throat," she continued. "If you could have felt it, not just seen it…" Brock Lovett chuckled.

"Well, that is the general idea here, Rose," he replied, grinning happily. He was beyond pleased. He finally was getting information about the diamond. He could finally have a possible lead to where it was in the ruins.

"Wait a second," said Lewis suddenly as he fought back an obviously concealed laugh. "I want to get something straight. You were going to kill yourself by jumping off the _Titanic?_" He couldn't hold it back. He started laughing at Rose madly. "That's great!"

"Lewis…" Brock said warningly, seeing the cold glares on Jack and Rose's faces. Bodine ignored him.

"All you had to do," He continued, still laughing, "was wait two days…!"

"Please," Brock said, wanting to get back to the main subject. "Tell us more about the diamond. What did Hockley do with it after that?"

"Rose, you look a little tired," Jack said, brushing back a strand of her white hair out of her eyes. He could tell Rose needed to stop for the moment.

"Oh, I am, Jack," Rose said, catching his hint. "I think I ought to lie down…"

"Would you both like some more coffee?" Lovett said quickly, not wanting them to leave.

"She's tired!" Lizzie snapped, starting to wheel Rose out of the room first before going back for Jack.

"Wait!" Brock begged, following after them. "Before you go, could you give us something to go on, here?" Jack and Rose ignored him. "Like… who else had access to the safe? What about this Lovejoy guy, the valet? Did he have the combination?"

"That's enough!" Lizzie spat, silencing him as Jack and Rose waved goodbye to him over their shoulders.

* * *

><p>Jack and Rose stood at the window of their stateroom on the <em>Keldysh,<em> watching the activity on the main decks from the crewmen. They were alone for the moment.

"Mr. Lovett is certainly becoming impatient with us," Jack said, watching one the deck cranes bring one of the submersibles out of the water. Rose nodded.

"Yes, I agree." She said. "He's too worried about the diamond to actually listen to the story."

"He better start to listen!" Jack said angrily, clenching his fists. "He hasn't even asked us about why Clara isn't with us, yet! She's the key!" Rose gently turned his head so he would look at her.

"We knew from the beginning who we were meeting when we decided to do this, Jack," she said tenderly. "We knew he wouldn't be interested in the details…"

"Well, he better start to get interested," Jack said, turning to pick up the nutcracker they had set down beside the pictures on the bureau. "Because we're not going to just tell him what he wants to know! He needs to know everything!"

"Yes," Rose said, resting her head on his shoulder. "Only by telling the whole story will be able to understand how truly worthless that necklace truly is…"

They both were brought out of their private conversation by seeing Brock and Bobby walk down the decks below.

"I need time," They heard Brock say to him. "Just buy me more time!"

"Time?" Bobby said, amused. "Brock, we're six days over as it is! We're running thirty thousand dollars a day! At this rate, I won't be able to raise twenty-five cents for a phone call! The partners are pissed- Brock!" He suddenly shouted, realizing that he wasn't even listening to him. "Are you hearing this? I'm telling you what they told me: The hand is on the plug, and it's starting to pull!"

"You tell the hand," Brock said irritably as Lizzie slowly approached them. "I need another two days! Bobby, we're close! I smell it!"

"Don't smell it," Bobby said, annoyed by Brock's insistence. "Okay?"

"I smell ice!" Brock continued, ignoring his protests. "He drew her wearing the diamond that night! They were photographed with the kid wearing the diamond on the same night! I just… got to work them a bit more, okay?"

"Alright…" Buell said begrudgingly. "We'll develop satellite trouble or something… You've got two days, Brock," He said warningly, raising two of his fingers to emphasize his words. "Two days!" He ran off. The smirk of relief on Lovett's face fell when he finally noticed Lizzie. Seeing the furious glare she was giving him, he realized she had heard the entire conversation.

"Hey, Lizzie," He said cautiously. "I was… just coming to find you. Can I… talk to you for a second?"

"Don't you mean _work_ me?" She spat. He grinned sheepishly. He could tell she was disgusted with him.

"Okay, look," Brock said, "I'm running out of time, here. I need your help."

"I'm not going to help you browbeat my hundred and one year old grandparents," Lizzie said firmly. "I came down here to tell you to back off!" Jack and Rose smiled. They were proud of their granddaughter.

"Please…" Brock said desperately. "You have got to understand something. I mean, look at all this," He glanced around him at all the commotion from the other workers as they unloaded the nearby submersibles. "I've got guys diving around the clock… it's a three ring circus… My partner and I? We've got all our dough tied up in this thing! This is three years of my life going down the drain, here. I've bet everything to find the Heart of the Ocean. My wife even divorced me over this hunt, and took my kids away." He suddenly held out his hand. "You see this? Right here?" Jack and Rose peered over the windowsill. His hand was empty, in a cupped form. Lizzie was as puzzled as they were.

"What?" She asked.

"That's the shape my hand's gonna be when I hold it!" He said excitedly. Lizzie just stared at him. "I'm not leaving here without it," he continued. "I can't leave here without it… I need to unlock what's inside your grandparents memories…"

"Look," Lizzie said to him. "They are going to do this _their _way, on _their_ own time. Don't forget that _they_ contacted _you._ They're out here for _their_ own reasons, God knows what they are… I thought they just wanted to see the drawing, the photograph, and those sheets of music, but there's something else… I can tell there's something else…" Brock nodded hesitantly, realizing her point.

"Maybe they want to make peace with the past…" He murmured.

"What past?" Lizzie demanded. "They have never, not once, ever said a single word about being on the _Titanic_ until two days ago!"

"Then that means we're all meeting your grandparents for the first time?" Brock asked, surprised. Lizzie nodded. "Strange…"

"You really think they were there?" Lizzie asked. Jack and Rose frowned. They had thought for sure that Lizzie believed them.

"Oh yeah," Brock said, nodding. "I'm a believer… They were here…"

Jack and Rose stared at each for a moment, and then they both leaned out the window slightly.

"Lizzie? Mr. Lovett?" Jack called out. They turned around and glanced up at them, startled. "Rose is feeling much better. We're ready to continue when you are." Brock smiled.

"Excellent! We'll meet you both back in the imaging room with the others!"


	4. Making It Count

**Alright, the first thing I want to do is give a shout out to my reviewers.**

**-DreamLik****eATeen: I'm glad you like it!**

**-AmericanHoney: I just want to say, I love your story, To the Stars! Please update soon!**

**-Frieda: I'm glad you like my descriptions so far! I'm working very hard on this story to make sure I write it well. As for Clara being musically gifted, you'll find out why in this chapter. And as for what I wrote about the men smoking last chapter, please, rewatch the movie. There actually are two men smoking cigars in that scene. That's why I wrote it.**

**-SurferGirl3000: Thank you for the birthday wishes! I'm really glad you like this story so far, and I hope you continue to leave more wonderful reviews!**

**Now, onto the story! I've wrote over thirty pages for all of you to enjoy!**

* * *

><p>Rose strolled along the A-deck purposefully, searching for the gates that led to the lower levels. It was a clear, sunny Saturday morning. The sunlight felt wonderful upon Rose's skin, almost as if she hadn't seen or felt the sun itself in many years. In a way, she hadn't. For as long as she could remember, she had simply lived with a mask shielding her deepest thoughts and emotions, and just last night, none other than Jack and Clara Dawson had shattered that mask. They had seen right through the façade she wore daily, and had pulled her back onto the ship to stop her from killing herself. They hadn't told Cal and the others the truth about how and why she nearly went overboard. She had to see them again and thank them for that, at the very least.<p>

After walking along for a little while, she successfully located and unlocked the gate that led to E-Deck. She went down, shutting it behind her with a metallic clang.

* * *

><p>Jack and Clara were, at the moment, in the Third-Class General Room with the other third-class passengers. It was a noisy, boisterous place, because it was the social center of steerage life on the <em>Titanic. <em>Some men and women were clustered around a young man playing an out-of-tune piano in the far corner, drinking out of glasses of beer as they laughed and sang in various languages. A group of young boys were scrambling along benches filled with women nursing their babies or reading dime novels and girls doing needlepoint work while they chased after a rat, trying to clobber it with a shoe. The people on the benches yelled in different languages at the little boys, frustrated by the general havoc they were causing.

Fabrizio was struggling to hold a conversation with the Norwegian girl he saw when they first came on board.

"No Italian?" He asked her. "English, little English?"

"Norwegian only," She struggled to reply properly.

"English is good," Fabrizio told her. Then he gestured to himself. "Fabrizio." He told her, trying to introduce himself.

"Fab…ri…zio?" She sounded out. He nodded, smiling that she understood.

"You?" He asked.

"Helga." She replied.

Jack and Clara, meanwhile, were befriending little Cora Cartmell. Clara was sitting down very stilly in front of Jack at a nearby table, staring at her nutcracker, posing for him as he drew her. Cora sat on his lap, watching in awe as he transformed the sheet in his portfolio into charcoal replicas of Clara and her toy. She was as amazed as Tommy was at his talent.

"Very good," he complimented, peeking at the drawing over Jacks' shoulder. "Very, very good."

"Thanks," Jack replied, glancing up slightly. "I make sure to do only my best whenever I draw Clara." She ever so slightly tilted her head to the side to look at them.

"How's it coming, big brother?" she asked.

"Almost done, Clair," he called back as Cora's parents came toward them.

"Cora," her father said, "we have to go now. Say goodbye to Uncle Jack and Clara."

Cora hopped off of Jack's lap and took her father's hand. "Bye, Uncle Jack," she said, waving goodbye. "Bye, Clara."

"Goodbye, Cora," Jack said, waving back.

"Bye, let's play again later, okay?" Clara said as she strode away with her parents. Then she turned back to Jack, who was adding the final touches to the drawing.

"There!" he said, blowing off the excess charcoal. "I'm done, sis!" Clara hopped off her stool, grabbed her nutcracker off the table, and ran over to him to see her drawing. Her eyes lit up. There she was, sitting on the stool with admiration shining in her eyes as she stared, transfixed, at her nutcracker on the table. Her elbows were on the wood of the table, while her hands propped up her chin. Her nutcracker was as radiant as ever, even in black and white. She tackled him in a hug.

"I love it, big brother!" She shouted, hugging him tightly. "It's wonderful!" Jack laughed as he pried her off.

"Well of course, my favorite subject was the star of the drawing, after all," he said, ruffling her hair as he sat her on his lap. She gazed at him in wonder.

"Really?" she asked, her eyes shining with joy. "I'm your favorite subject?" He grinned and nodded. She squealed and hugged him again as Rose, ever so cautiously, came down the stairs that led to the boat decks.

Slowly, the noise in the room simmered down to low whispers as Rose walked inside. Everyone was in shock. They knew first-class passengers didn't come down to third-class, just as how third-class passengers didn't go up to first-class. What on earth was this woman doing here?

Rose felt very self-conscience. She knew they felt as though she was an intruder here to scorn at them. She wanted to find Jack and Clara quickly and leave. It wasn't fair to them, she knew, to ask them to accompany her to first-class where they would surely be stared at by her society, but she knew Jack at least wouldn't object and would convince Clara to come up once she discreetly pointed out the drunkards in the back corner that were undressing her hungrily with their eyes. Then she saw them. They were in the very back of the room, sitting with their backs to her as they looked at something. She slowly made her way over to them, realizing that they were among the few in the room that hadn't noticed her yet.

Fabrizio tapped them both on their shoulders to get their attention. "Jack, Clara," he said, pointing to Rose. They turned around, and then they glanced at each other in surprise. They hadn't been expecting Rose to pay them a visit. Jack shut his portfolio; scooped Clara up in his arms, and stood up. For a few brief moments, the entire room was deathly quiet.

"Hello, Mr. Dawson, Ms. Dawson," said Rose finally.

"Hello, again," Jack said awkwardly.

"Hi," Clara said shyly, feeling the eyes of everyone in the room staring at them.

"May I speak with you both?" she asked.

"Yeah," Jack said, slowly setting Clara back down.

"Okay," Clara said, squeezing Jack's hand tightly. Fabrizio and Tommy were staring at the three of them in shock.

"In private?" Rose added, realizing they had no intention of leaving E-Deck.

"Yes, of course," Jack said, swiping his portfolio and Clara's nutcracker off the bench. He gave Clara her toy before turning back to Rose. "After you," He said politely before following her back out to the decks, Clara sticking close behind him.

Jack and Clara were silent as they followed Rose through the gates that separated the upper decks from their lower ones. They both were very conscience of the stares they were getting from the first-class passengers. Neither of them were sure why Rose wanted to talk to them, but they knew she had felt just as insecure down in steerage as they did up here.

"It's certainly a beautiful day," Rose said suddenly, trying to make conversation.

"Oh, yeah," Jack said, startled.

"Yes," Clara said quietly, hugging her nutcracker tightly as she bent her head, trying to avoid the stares from the people around them. "Yes, it is nice out."

Silence came between the three of them once again.

"Are you mad at us, Rose?" Clara abruptly asked. Jack and Rose stopped and turned to her, surprised.

"What on earth gave you that idea?" Rose asked.

"Well… you seem tense," she explained. "And… judging by the… _accident,_ last night, I was thinking that maybe you wanted to yell at us for making you lie to your fiancé… I mean… he seems like the kind of guy who would want to hurt something when he's mad… and since he's _your_ fiancé… I thought you might be as mad as he was…"

"No, not at all!" Rose said. She hadn't realized how big of an impact Cal had left on the little girl, even though his anger hadn't been directed at her. "I apologize if I gave you that impression, Ms. Dawson." Clara nodded. "The same goes to you, Mr. Dawson. I am sincerely sorry if that was what you were thinking right now."

Jack shook his head. "No, not at all," he replied.

"Then what did you want to talk to us about?" Clara asked. Rose frowned. She hadn't wanted to bring up last night immediately.

"Well," she began delicately. "I was curious about you both. I'm sure you can both assume what my life is like, but I hardly know anything about yours…"

"Oh." Clara said. "Well, I guess big brother can tell you more about that. I hardly remember anything before we started moving all the time." Rose stared quizzically at her.

"We've been on our own for the past five years," Jack explained. "Since our folks died."

"How old were you both?" Rose inquired.

"Jack was thirteen, and I was three at the time," Clara told her. Rose glanced up at Jack. He could read what she was thinking just by looking at her face.

"It was too painful to stay there, and we didn't have any other relatives," he said. "So, I packed up the few belongings we both had, bought two tickets for the first train out of town, and lit on out of there."

"We haven't been back to Wisconsin since then," Clara added. "You can just call us tumbleweeds blowing in the wind…" Rose chuckled. Clara certainly wasn't afraid to speak up and let her voice be heard.

"Well, Rose," said jack, "the three of us have walked about a mile around this boat deck, and we've chewed over how great the weather's been, and how Clara and I grew up, but I reckon that's not why you came to talk to us, is it?" Rose frowned. He was certainly very sharp.

"Mr. Dawson," She began slowly, "Ms. Dawson, I-"

"Jack." He interrupted. "There's no need to be formal."

"Yes, please call me Clara, Rose," Clara added. Rose hesitantly nodded. When she stopped and thought about, it did seem strange to be addressing people who had saved her life so formally.

"Jack, Clara," she began again. "I… I feel like such an idiot. It took me all morning to find the nerve to go and face you both."

"Well, here you are," Jack said, unsure where she was leading this.

"Yes, here I am…"

"Why did you want to face us, Rose?" Clara asked.

"Well… I wanted to thank you both for what you did." She explained. "Not just for pulling me back, but also for your discretion as well…"

"You're welcome." Jack told her.

"Yes, you're welcome," said Clara. Rose couldn't help but feel as though they were judging her. They probably thought she was just another one of the rude first-class women who tried to kill herself merely because she had been denied a chance to dance with someone in one of the waltz's at the party last night. She felt she had to correct that.

"Look…" Rose said slowly. "I know what both of you must be thinking… 'Poor little rich girl, what does she know about misery?'"

"No," Jack said. Rose turned around, surprised. "No, that's not what I was thinking. What I was thinking was: What could have happened to this girl to make her think she had no way out?"

"I wasn't thinking that either, Rose," said Clara. "What I was wondering was: What could make someone as nice as you want to do something so horrible?" Rose just stared at them. Her head was reeling. How was it possible for them, complete strangers, actually care enough about her to ask questions like these? Questions she had desperately wished to hear from her own mother, or even from Cal?

"Well, I… it was everything!" She spluttered out, grasping the railing as tight as she could. Now that she could, she needed to vent. "It was… my whole world, and all the people in it! And the inertia of my life, plunging ahead of me… and I'm powerless to stop it!" She held out her hand so they could see the hideous ring on her annular finger.

"God, look at that thing!" Jack said, shocked by the size of the diamond. "You would have gone straight to the bottom!" Rose sighed and continued.

"Five hundred invitations have gone out… all of Philadelphia's society will be there, and all the while I feel like I'm… standing in the middle of a crowded room screaming at the top of my lungs, and no one even looks up!"

"…Do you love him?" Clara asked suddenly. Jack and Rose stared at her.

"Pardon me?" Rose asked, not expecting her to ask this.

"Do you love him?" she repeated.

"You're being very rude," Rose said, not wanting to discuss the matter. "You shouldn't be asking me this, Clara."

"It's a simple question," Jack protested, curious himself about the answer. "Do you love the guy or not?" Rose cautiously laughed.

"This is not a suitable conversation!" She said angrily.

"Why can't you just answer the question?" Clara asked. She didn't understand why Rose was being so closed off about the matter. Jack had always told her that marriage symbolized the love between two people. In her mind, that meant Rose had to be very much in love with her fiancé. "You do love him, don't you?"

"This is absurd!" Rose said, annoyed by their nosiness. Jack couldn't help but smirk at her display of anger. He had never met anyone quite like her before. "You and Jack don't know me, and I don't know either of you, and we are not having this conversation at all! You are both rude and uncouth and presumptuous, and I am leaving now!" She started to shake Clara's hand.

"Jack, Clara- no, Mr. Dawson, Ms. Dawson," she declared in a refined tone, letting go of Clara's hand to shake Jack's. "It has been a pleasure. I sought you both out to thank you, and now I have thanked you-"

"And you've insulted us," Jack said, trying the mask the chuckle in his voice.

"Well… you and your sister deserved it…" Rose protested.

"Right," Jack said, amused.

"Right," Rose agreed. There was a brief, awkward pause.

"I thought you were leaving, Rose?" Clara asked, giggling.

"I am!" Rose said, affronted.

"Then why are you still shaking hands with big brother?" she asked. Rose glanced down. Clara was right. She hadn't even realized she was still shaking his hand. She blushed.

"You… you are so annoying!" Rose said to Clara as she quickly released her hold on Jack's hand, and started to walk away. Jack and Clara laughed. "Wait!" she said suddenly, realizing her stupidity. "I don't have to leave, this is my part of the ship! You and your brother leave!" She pointed to the gates that led down to the steerage. Jack didn't bother to hide his laughter at this.

"Well, well, well," he said, smirking slightly. "Now who's being the rude one?" Rose blinked. He was quite right. She glanced around for something, _anything_ that would make a suitable change of topic. She spied the portfolio in Jack's right hand.

"What is this stupid thing you're carrying around?" she said quickly, snatching it out of his hands and opening it. A few of his sketches fell out. She picked them up and studied them. "So what are you?" she asked, sitting down on one of the open deck chairs. "An artist, or something?" Jack nodded, sitting down on the chair next to her as Clara sat down next to him. "These are rather good…" she commented, leafing through more of his work, which aside from consisting mostly of Clara and her nutcracker, were filled of sketches of complete strangers. "They're very good, actually…"

Jack's portfolio was filled with breathtaking portraits. There was one of young woman breast-feeding her newborn son, and another of a man hugging a little girl. "Jack…" Rose said in wonder. "This is exquisite work…"

"Well, they didn't think too much of them in old Paris," he replied, blushing slightly from the compliment. He wasn't used to being praised often about his artistic talent from anyone aside from his sister.

"Paris?" Rose asked, surprised. "The two of you _do_ get around for p-" She cut herself off. "I- I mean, for people of limited means…"

"Go on," Jack said chuckling. "For poor people. You can say it." Rose blushed again and turned the page. She turned even redder. The next drawing was of a young woman, posing upon a bed with a cigarette in mouth. She was wearing absolutely nothing.

"Well, well, well," Rose said, masking her discomfort as she flipped through some more of the intimate drawings. "These were drawn from life?" she asked. Jack nodded, using his body as a shield so Clara wouldn't see them.

"Well, that's one of the good things about Paris," he said in a low tone so his sister wouldn't hear him. "Lot's of girls are willing to take their clothes off." Rose blushed again and turned the page.

"You like this woman," Rose stated, indicating the woman in the picture. "You used her several times…"

"Well, she had beautiful hands," he explained, flipping to a picture that only showed her hands. "You see?" Rose decided to poke a little fun.

"I think you must have had a love affair with her…" She declared.

"No, no, no," He said, laughing. "Just with her hands." He quickly glanced over his shoulder. Clara wasn't paying attention to them. She was busy playing with her nutcracker. He turned back to Rose. "She was a one-legged prostitute," he whispered. Rose stared at him. Had she heard him correctly? He saw her disbelief and flipped the page. "See?"

"O-oh…" Rose said, turning away from the startling image. Jack laughed.

"She had a good sense of humor, though," he added. "Oh, and this lady," he turned the page to show a drawing of an aged woman. She was wearing fine crafted jewelry, but her clothes appeared to be ruffled, as though moths had been nesting in them for many years. "She used to sit at the local bar every night wearing every piece of jewelry she owned, just waiting for her long lost love…"

"Jack called her Madame Bijou," Clara said happily. Jack and Rose jumped. They hadn't even seen her walk around them to see the portfolio. "See how her clothes are all moth eaten?" she added. Rose chuckled and turned to Jack.

"You have a gift Jack," she said brightly. "You do. You see people…"

"I see you…" He said. Rose felt her heart flutter at his words.

"And…?" she asked. Jack smiled to her.

"You wouldn't have jumped." He replied. Rose blinked. She hadn't been expecting him to say that.

"Don't hog all the attention, Jack!" Clara said. The two of them snapped out of their thoughts and turned to her. "I want to show her my work!"

"Oh, right!" Jack said, flipping hurriedly through some more of the papers with a beet red face. "How could I have forgotten?"

"Are you an artist as well, Clara?" Rose asked. Clara shook her head.

"No, that's big brother's specialty. My work is much different." Rose was puzzled. What did she mean? "Here, look for yourself!" Clara said happily, nodding down to the portfolio on Jack's lap. Rose looked down. The next page was not another portrait, but the score of a song.

"You write music?" Rose asked, reading the score. Clara nodded brightly.

"That's right!" she said, bouncing up and down. "I want to be a great composer when I'm older!"

"A composer?" Said Rose. "That's certainly a good aspiration to have. Where did you learn to write music?"

"How else?" Clara asked, sitting back down. "I remember that mama taught me how to play the piano, and from there I taught myself how to write it down while traveling with big brother."

"These are truly wonderful pieces," Rose exclaimed, sifting through more songs. Clara beamed.

"You really think so?" She asked, excited. Rose smiled and nodded.

"Absolutely." Clara couldn't help herself. She ran up and hugged Rose. Jack and Rose laughed.

* * *

><p>Back in the first-class lounge, Ruth Dewitt Bukater was enjoying afternoon tea with the Countess of Rothes and Lucille Lady Duff-Gordon. To Ruth, it was important to make continuous appearances with people of esteem such as the Countess. They were deep in conversation about Rose, and why she hadn't been sent to study at the University after completing her prior studies at finishing school.<p>

"Well, the purpose of University is to find a suitable husband," Ruth explained, sipping her tea. "And Rose has already done that. What would be the point in sending her?"

"Look!" said the Countess suddenly, discreetly tilting her head towards the entrance of the lounge. "Here comes that vulgar Brown woman!" Ruth set down the cup and saucer in a refined, swift manner.

"Quickly," she whispered, getting to her feet. "Let's get out before she sits with us!" The other two women stood up-

"Hello, girls," came a Southern voice. Ruth plastered a fake smile on her lips and turned around. Molly Brown was standing right behind her, smiling brightly. "I was hoping I'd catch you all at tea."

"We're awfully sorry, you missed it," Ruth said politely, wanting to get rid of her. "The Countess and I were just off to take the air on the boat deck."

"What a lovely idea!" Molly exclaimed. "I need to catch up on my gossip!"

Again, Ruth smiled through gritted teeth, and led the way out. It was going to be much harder to get rid of her than she had initially thought.

As they left, they passed by Bruce Ismay, who was conversing with Captain Smith about the current speed of the ship at a nearby table.

"You've not yet lit the last four boilers?" Ismay asked, raising an eyebrow. Smith shook his head.

"No, I don't see the need," he replied. "We are making excellent time." Ismay had never been a patient man. Did he not understand the importance of reaching New York as quickly as possible? How not doing so would affect the ships' image?

"The press knows the size of _Titanic,"_ Ismay explained, "but now I want them to marvel at her speed! We must give them something new to print! This maiden voyage of _Titanic_ must make headlines!"

"Mr. Ismay," Captain Smith began delicately, "I would prefer not to push the engines until they've been properly run in." Ismay frowned.

"Of course, I'm just a passenger, and I'll leave that to your good officers to decide what's best," he said. "But what a glorious end to your final crossing, if we were to get in to New York on Tuesday night and surprise them all…" Captain Smith contemplated Ismay's words. "Make the morning papers…" Ismay added excitedly. "Retire with a bang, eh, E.J?" Smith nodded stiffly. Ismay grinned. "Good man."

* * *

><p>Jack, Rose, and Clara were still together, and were enjoying a walk down the upper decks in the late afternoon sunlight. Around them, first-class passengers were lounging about on deck chairs as stewards ran back and forth between them, attending to their needs. They paid no attention to Rose or her two companions from third-class.<p>

"What led you both to be on this ship?" Rose asked.

"Well, I didn't care to much for all that Dadaism and Cubism in the paintings in France," Jack explained. "It just had no heart to it." Rose laughed.

"I like some of it," she commented.

"Really?" Jack asked, surprised. She nodded.

"And I couldn't stand the melodies in French music," Clara added, scrunching up her face in disgust as she recalled the music. "It was too boring!"

"Paris for us was more about living on the streets and trying to put it on paper," Jack explained. "You know what I mean?" Rose nodded.

"Well, people in France didn't like that," Clara said. "In both music and in art. So we've been trying to go back home to America for about a year now and try our luck there." Rose smiled longingly.

"You know, my dream has always been to just run away," she exclaimed. "And become an artist, or even a musician… living in a garret, poor, but free!" Jack and Clara laughed.

"You wouldn't even last two days!" Jack protested. Clara nodded in agreement.

"There's no hot water," she added. "And hardly ever any caviar!" Rose scowled.

"I happen to hate caviar!" She shot back. "And I hate people telling me what dreams I should and shouldn't have!" Clara frowned.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to make you mad, Rose."

"Well, alright," Rose said, seeing she was truly sorry. "It's just… everyone expects me to be this delicate little flower, and I'm not! I'm sturdy; I'm strong as a horse! I'm here to do something, not to just sit around and be decorative! You see these hands?" She held out her hands. They were both clean of any scabs and callous. "They were made for work!" A lone steward approached them in her rant.

"Care for something, miss? Would you like some tea or some bullion?" He asked.

"No!" Rose snapped. Jack and Clara laughed. They couldn't help themselves. "There's something in me," she continued as the steward walked away. "Like a dynamo, I feel it! I don't know what it is, whether I should be an artist or a musician or… I don't know, a dancer like Isadora Duncan, a wild, pagan spirit… or a moving picture actress!" she added, spying Daniel Marvin filming the activity on the decks. She jumped in front of the camera and struck a dramatic, theatrical pose. Jack and Clara laughed, as did Mr. Marvin.

"So, where exactly _have_ the two of you been to?" Rose asked as they moved on, leaving Mr. Marvin behind them. "Aside from Paris, I mean."

"Well, before that," Jack said, stopping at the railing to look out at the radiant, setting sun. "I worked on a squid boat in Monterey, and then we went down to Los Angeles to the pier in Santa Monica."

"We always used to sit at this one ice cream parlor on the pier!" Clara added. "Jack would always order vanilla, and I'd get chocolate! While we ate them, big brother would start doing portraits of the customers there for ten cents per drawing, and I'd entertain the customers with the piano they had. I'd even take song requests from them for ten cents, as well."

Rose smiled. They certainly appeared to have had a wonderful, and adventurous life on the road… not like her. She may have been properly educated at finishing school, and was returning home Europe, but she wasn't truly living. Not like they were. Her entire life had always been mapped out in front of her. She had been told what to learn, and where to go. They however, did as they pleased, and had experienced things she would never do.

"Why can't I be like you, Jack, Clara?" Rose asked. "You two just head out for the horizon whenever you feel like it… Jack, say the three of us will go there sometime to that pier, even if we only ever just talk about it…"

"No, we'll do it!" Jack told her. "You and me will drink cheap beer as Clara stuffs her face with chocolate ice cream… The three of us will ride on the roller coaster until we throw up…" Rose laughed at the scandalous image. The future he was painting truly sounded wonderful…

"And then we'll ride horses on the beach!" Clara added happily. "Right in the surf! But you'll have to do it like a real cowgirl, Rose. None of that sidesaddle stuff!" Rose looked at her, shocked.

"You… you mean one leg on each side?" she asked, wanting to make sure she understood.

"Yeah."

"Could you both show me?"

"Sure," Jack replied gladly, "if you'd like."

Rose smiled. "Teach me to ride like a man," she emphasized.

"And chew tobacco like a man," Clara added in a southern accent. Jack and Rose laughed.

"And, spit like a man!" Rose added on, mimicking her southern accent. Jack grinned.

"What?" He asked, amused. "They didn't teach you that in finishing school?"

"No!" Rose added. She couldn't even imagine what her instructors would say if she were to spit like a man!

"Well c'mon, I'll show you!" Jack said gently taking her by the wrist. "Let's do it!"

"W-what?" Rose asked.

"I'll show you how," Jack repeated. "Come on!"

"Jack, no!" Rose exclaimed as he led her over to where the railing was right above the water. "Wait, Jack!"

"Oh, come on, Rose!" Clara said. "Live a little!"

"Jack, Clara," Rose said quickly, "I couldn't possibly-!"

"Watch closely!" Jack interrupted. He hacked up a large amount of saliva in his mouth, and spat it all out into the ocean. Clara clapped.

"That's disgusting!" Rose exclaimed.

"Alright, your turn!" Jack said, ignoring her. Rose grinned before spitting daintily.

"That was pitiful!" Clara said.

"Yeah, you really have to hack it back!" Jack added. "And get some leverage to it! Use your arms… arch your neck!" He sent out another trail of goopy saliva.

"Did you see the range on that one?" Clara asked, laughing. Rose nodded, not noticing Molly Brown, Ruth, and the Countess turn the corner. They stared, not believing their eyes, as Rose let out a mid-sized strand of saliva out into the Atlantic.

"That was better," Jack commented, "You've got to work on it!"

"You really got to hack it up!" Clara added. Rose laughed and turned around slightly. She froze, seeing her mother. She discreetly nudged Jack and Clara to turn around. They turned, seeing the people staring at them. Jack gulped down the spit he had been hacking up, and Clara hid behind him, hugging her nutcracker tightly.

"Mother!" Rose exclaimed, pretending to be overjoyed to see her. "May I introduce to you Jack Dawson, and his younger sister, Clara?" They both awkwardly smiled to her.

"Charmed, I'm sure," Ruth replied coolly.

The others appeared to be gracious and interested in the two people that had saved her life, and were quite friendly and polite to Jack and Clara, but Rose, however, could tell by the look in Ruth's eyes that she already didn't like them. She was staring at them as though they were dangerous insects, and that they had to be squashed as quickly as possible, or else they would poison her.

"Well, Jack, Clara," said Molly Brown, bringing Rose back to reality. "Sounds like you're both good folks to have around when in a sticky spot." Jack smiled, and Clara shyly giggled just as a steward began to blow a bugle, signaling to the first-class passengers that it was suppertime. Molly appeared to be amused by this. "Why do they always insist in announcing dinner like a damn cavalry charge?" Rose laughed and turned to Ruth.

"Shall we go dress, mother?" Ruth nodded. "See you at dinner, Jack, Clara," Rose said. Jack and Clara waved goodbye as she left.

"Uh, kids?" Molly Brown asked them as soon as the others were gone. "Do either of you have the slightest comprehension what you're doing?"

"Not really," Jack admitted.

"No." Clara said shyly.

"Well, you're both about to go into the snake pit… what are you both planning to wear?" Jack and Clara exchanged nervous looks. They hadn't thought about that. They gestured to what they were currently wearing. Molly chuckled. "I figured… both of you come with me."

* * *

><p>"I was right! You and my son are just about the same size!" Molly exclaimed as she helped Jack into the jacket of the tuxedo.<p>

"Pretty close," Jack said, admiring his reflection in the mirror. Molly had brought them both back to her first-class cabin. She had gone through one of the trunks she had brought with her before giving Jack the tuxedo she had bought in France as a gift for her son when she got home as well as a small bottle of gel to slick back his hair, and a small package to Clara, who she had then sent in the bathroom to change.

"Um, Mrs. Brown?" Clara called out from behind the bathroom door.

"There's no need to be formal, you can call me Molly!"

"Um, Molly," Clara said shyly. "Could… could you please help me? I can't reach the last few buttons…"

"Sure." She went into the bathroom and gasped. "Oh my, you are the most adorable little girl I've ever seen!"

Jack tried to peer inside. He was curious. Molly swatted him away. "You wait! She's almost done!"

Jack sighed and went back in front of the mirror. He was beyond nervous. He was going to be dining with Rose and the other first-class passengers. He only hoped Clara wouldn't say things she'd normally say and cause them to get thrown out by one of the stewards…

"Jack," Molly said. He turned around. "I'd like to introduce you to your sister, Clara Dawson!" She stepped out of the doorframe. Jack was shocked. The eight year-old girl he knew to be his sister was gone. In her place stood a small, refined little girl. She was wearing a soft pink dress, and had a matching ribbon in her blonde, curled hair. She wore white stockings, white party shoes, and white gloves. The only way he could tell it was her at all was because she still had her nutcracker with her. She was staring at Jack with as much amazement as he was looking at her.

"Is that you, Jack?" Clara asked, shocked by his transformation.

"I was about to you ask you the same thing, Clair," Jack said smiling. She blushed.

"Does it really look nice?" She asked shyly. Molly grinned and led her over to the mirror.

"Are you kidding?" She joked, watching Clara gasp at her appearance. "You and Jack shine up like new pennies."

* * *

><p>The steward bowed to them as he opened the door to the first-class entrance. "Good evening, sir, miss," he said politely. Jack nodded to him as he and Clara walked inside.<p>

Jack and Clara nearly forgot how to breathe. The splendor of first-class was truly overwhelming compared to their meager accommodations in third. Directly above them was a glorious glass dome, lighting the entire room. The railing they were standing in front of was carved in oriental style, and connected to the magnificent Grand Staircase of first-class. At the top of the staircase was a beautiful grandfather clock. There was an angel of either side of the face of the clock, acting as though they were guarding Time itself…

Jack and Clara slowly made their way down the stairs, taking in the beauty. They were both trying to act as though this was nothing new to them. There were women with their hair pinned back in elaborate fashions and wearing floor length dresses surrounded them, their arms linked with gentlemen dressed in their evening wear. Like Jack, they were spiffed up in white tie tuxedos, and were conversing quietly with one hand at the small of their back. Jack tried to discreetly imitate them.

"What are you doing?" Clara whispered, trying to swallow a giggle.

"Pay attention!" He whispered back. "Watch and learn from everyone around us! If we're to pull this off, we can't just _look _like we're of high society, we have to _act_ like it!"

"Oh, okay!" She glanced around, trying to find someone her own age to try and copy. She quickly saw a little girl only a little older than she was with what Clara assumed to be her parents. She curtsied politely to the couple that approached them. Clara studied how she kept her face directly on the faces of the people and not on her feet as she did it.

Just then, Cal and Ruth came down the steps. They both walked straight past them, walking over to the Countess of Rothes. They didn't even recognize Jack and Clara.

"Good evening," Cal said, gently kissing her gloved hand. Jack felt as though an angry fire had spewed up in him as he watched Cal flirt with her. How dare he cheat on Rose like that! Didn't he realize how lucky he was, to have someone as kind and extraordinary as Rose? He knew he would never be unfaithful to Rose, if she were his fiancé…

"Jack," Clara whispered. He glanced down, snapping out of his thoughts. "Look!" She nodded to the grand staircase. He felt his breath hitch in his throat as he beheld Rose.

She was an absolute vision of red and black, shimmering from the embroidery of her dress at the top of the stairs. Her vibrant, curly red hair was pinned back in an elaborate bun, and her gorgeous green eyes were locked with his. She was just as entranced with him as he was with her. For a moment, it was as though they were the only people present in the room…

Rose slowly descended down the steps toward him. Jack wasn't even sure what to say to the lovely goddess in front of him. She was simply too beautiful for his lowly eyes to be allowed to gaze upon. She blushed, and extended her gloved hand. Jack smiled as he took her hand, and gently kissed it. Rose flushed even harder.

"I saw that in a Nickelodeon once, and I always wanted to try it," He whispered, saying the first thing to came to his mind. Rose giggled at the comment, but Jack mentally kicked himself. Out of all the perfectly lovely things he could have said, he had to go and compare the kiss to a Nickelodeon he had once seen? He felt like a total idiot.

"Hello, Rose," Clara said, curtsying to her. Rose giggled even harder and curtsied back. Blushing madly, Jack offered Rose his elbow. She smiled, and graciously accepted. Clara took his free hand, and stuck out her chin, trying to act like an important, sophisticated young woman. Jack and Rose snickered as they went over to Cal and Ruth.

"Darling," Rose said to Cal, making him turn around. "Surely you remember Mr. Dawson, and his younger sister?" Cal's expression turned from puzzlement, to complete shock for a brief moment, before returning to a polite smile. It took all the willpower Jack and Clara had to keep from laughing at his surprise by their appearances.

"Mr. and Ms. Dawson?" he said, pretending to be pleasantly surprised. "It's amazing! You and your sister could almost pass for a gentleman and a young lady!"

"Almost," Jack replied, never changing his expression.

"How extraordinary," Cal murmured, offering his arm to Ruth before leading them all down the stairs that led to the Reception Room on D-Deck, where Rose quietly gave Jack and Clara the brief synopsis of the people around them.

"There's the Countess of Rothes," she said, nodding to the woman Jack and Clara had seen with Molly and Ruth earlier that day. She appeared to be conversing quietly with Captain Smith. "And… that's John Jacob Astor, the richest man on the ship." She discreetly pointed to a man in his early thirties, escorting a girl who almost appeared to be around the same age as Rose. "His little wife, Madeline, is my age," Rose said, "and in delicate condition. See how she's trying to hide it?" She was right. Madeline Astor was keeping her hands over her stomach to disguise the small, barely noticeable bump. "Quite the scandal! And… that's Benjamin Guggenheim and his mistress, Madame Aubert."

"Mistress?" Clara said quietly. "He isn't married?" Jack and Rose couldn't help but laugh slightly at her innocence.

"Oh, he is." Rose replied. "Mrs. Guggenheim is at home with their children, naturally." Clara still looked puzzled. Rose thought the best solution would be to change the subject. "And over here, we have Sir Cosmo, and Lucile Lady Duff-Gordon. She designs naughty lingerie, among her many talents," she paused for a moment to wave at them. "They're quite popular with the royals." Jack and Clara chuckled as Molly Brown approached them, dressed in a beautiful beaded dress.

"Care to escort one more lady to dinner?" She asked Jack.

"Certainly," he replied as Cal turned around, realizing Rose was lagging along with the Dawson's.

"Sweetpea?" He said, motioning her to hurry up. Molly Brown just laughed.

"Ain't nothing to it, is there Jack, Clara?" she asked. They shook their heads. They were surprised how easy it was to pretend to be rich. "Now remember, they love money, so just pretend like the two of you own a goldmine, and you're in the club." They nodded, and the four of them strolled through the ornate double doors, bumping into the Astor's. "Hey, Astor!"

"Well, hello Molly," said Astor warmly. "Nice to see you."

"J.J., Madeline," said Rose, "I'd like you to meet Jack Dawson, and his younger sister, Clara."

"How do you do?" Madeline asked, shaking hands with Jack.

"Pleasure," he replied before shaking hands with Mr. Astor.

"Yes, it's very nice to meet you both," said Clara, curtsying to Madeline before allowing John Jacob Astor to shake her hand.

"Are you and your brother of the Boston Dawson's?" He asked her.

"No, sir," she replied politely. "We're of the Chippewa Falls Dawson's, actually."

"Oh, yes," he replied. It was obvious he had no idea where Chippewa Falls was. Jack waited until they were safely away from the Astor's to pat her on the head.

"Nicely deflected, Clair," he said quietly. She beamed at him.

"Well, I didn't want to lie…" she replied. Rose couldn't help but smile. She could tell they had both been nervous when she saw them by the staircase, but now they were easily getting into the roles of being first-class actors. Everyone so far had assumed they were one of them, the heirs to a wealthy railroad fortune, maybe. Obviously of new money, but still members of high society. So far, everything was going well.

They sat down for dinner at an open table. Jack had been hoping to sit down beside Rose, but as soon as she sat down next to Mr. Andrews, Cal took the open spot beside her. He settled with a seat opposite her, beside Clara and Molly. As soon as the Countess, Mr. Guggenheim and Madame Aubert, Mr. Ismay, Colonel Gracie, and the Astor's joined them, Ruth decided to attack him and Clara, determined to make them look like complete utter fools.

"Tell us of the accommodations in steerage, Mr. Dawson, Ms. Dawson," she said, ignoring the shocked stares from everyone else at the table. "I hear they're quite good on this ship."

"Well, they're the best we've seen, ma'am." Jack replied, squeezing Clara's hand under the table to make sure she stayed quiet. "Hardly any rats." Cautious laughter erupted. No one was quite sure what to say, now.

"Mr. Dawson and his younger sister are joining us from third-class," Cal explained. He, too, was determined to make a laughing stock out of Jack and Clara. "They were of some assistance to my fiancé." Rose frowned. She wasn't just going to sit there and allow them to treat Jack and Clara rudely.

"It turns out that Mr. Dawson is quite a fine artist," she said, steering the conversation to the positives about them. "He was kind enough to show me some of his work today." Cal scoffed.

"Rose and I differ somewhat in our definition of fine art, not to impute your work, sir," he added to Jack. Jack shook his head, showing he wasn't offended. Rose quickly cleared her throat to catch his and Clara's attention, and then gestured to her napkin. They got the message, and quickly set them on their laps. Then they noticed all the silverware around their plates.

"Is this all for us?" Clara whispered to Molly.

"Just start from the outside and work your way in," she whispered back as a waiter approached them.

"Do you take caviar, sir?" He asked Jack.

"No caviar for me, thanks," he replied. "I never did like it much." The waiter moved on. "Well, I don't want to take all the creative credit," he said to the others, continuing the conversation. "Clara here is just as talented as I am." Every head at the table turned to Clara, who, feeling her shy nature around strangers return, sank a little lower in her seat.

"Are you an artist as well, Ms. Dawson?" Mr. Andrews asked, intrigued.

"P-please, call me Clara," she said hesitantly, sitting up straighter in her seat. "I'm not as old as all of you, it seems strange to refer to me as that." Everyone at the table laughed.

"Alright then, are you an artist as well, then, Clara?" Mr. Andrews asked again.

"N-no sir," she said, picking up her nutcracker off the table to hug. "Big brother's the artist. I can't draw to save my life…"

"Then what does he mean, exactly?" asked Colonel Gracie. Clara blushed. She was now the topic of conversation amongst total strangers.

"Well, I'm a musician." She said. "A composer, to be exact…" The entire table was intrigued, now. This little girl wrote music? It was unheard of, to them at least.

"A composer?" Ruth said, masking the obvious disdain in her tone from her face. "What exactly do you compose? Songs that are played by the fiddlers in the decks below, perhaps?" Nearly everyone chuckled. Clara fought to keep a straight, neutral face.

"No, ma'am," she replied. "I compose various, refined melodies."

"Pardon my asking, but where would you hear such music, Clara?" asked Cal, sipping his champagne.

"Paris," Clara replied. She knew they were trying to make her look like a stupid little kid. They didn't realize whom they were talking to about this matter, however, nor did they realize how smart of a person they were trying to make a fool out of. "You of all people, Mr. Hockley, should realize that sophisticated music is played almost everywhere in France." Cal frowned. She had a valid point. He quickly thought up another tactic.

"It appears I didn't phrase the question properly," he tactfully replied. "What I meant was, _how_ did someone as young as you learn to write music such as that?" Clara politely smiled. She couldn't wait to see the look on his face with her answer.

"I learned from three things." She said. "The first being our mother, Laura Dawson. She taught me the basics of playing the piano before she and our father passed away." Everyone quickly sent their condolences to their late parents. "The second was from books. Books are filled with knowledge, even musical knowledge. It was easy to determine how to write music after I learned the basics of how to do it, and the third was from up here." She tapped her temple with her index finger. "In my own head. I thought up the melodies, and I wrote them down. It's as simple as that." Cal did an excellent job of masking the anger in his face when he saw how everyone at the table was admiring her.

"What is your latest composition?" Mr. Ismay asked.

"Just yesterday I began the beginning to the theme of the ship," she proudly declared. "I call it, _'Ode to __**Titanic.'"**_Mr. Ismay beamed.

"I just may end up purchasing that from you once you finish it," he said with a chuckle. "Thomas," he suddenly said to Mr. Andrews. "You know every rivet of this ship. Can't you imagine how wonderful it would be, to have a theme for the public to whistle whenever _Titanic_ leaves and enters port?"

"Your ship is a wonder, Mr. Andrews," Rose added. "Truly."

"Thank you, Rose," he replied graciously. "And yes, that would be a superb idea, Bruce!"

"Oh, I'm afraid you've misunderstood me!" Everyone turned back to Clara, who looked as though she wanted to completely disappear. Cal and Ruth paid close attention. This was their chance to expose her and Jack as utter fools.

"What do you mean, Clara?" asked Mr. Andrews, puzzled.

"Well, just what I said, sir," said Clara cautiously, hugging her nutcracker tightly. "It's not the type of song you and Mr. Ismay have in mind…"

"Then enlighten us," said Mr. Ismay, curious as to what she meant. "What do you mean, exactly?"

"Just forget it," said Ruth, taking a sip from her glass of champagne. "If she doesn't wish to share her talent, we mustn't force her…" That caught Clara's attention. She wasn't about to sit there and be insulted about her musical talent. Plus, this was her opportunity to confront Mr. Ismay and Mr. Andrews on the ship being cursed. She couldn't waste this chance.

"It's not that I don't wish to share with you all my song, Mrs. Dewitt Bukater," she said. "It's more of the fact that I don't wish to offend Mr. Andrews or Mr. Ismay, even though I think they _should_ hear what the song means." Ruth nearly choked on her drink. She hadn't been expecting _that_ to leave Clara's lips. Everyone's attention was focused solely upon Clara now, except for Mr. Andrews and Mr. Ismay. They were exchanging looks of surprise.

"Go on," Mr. Ismay said after a few moments. "Please, tell us what you mean. I can assure you that neither of us will be offended, if you believe we should know what your song is about, exactly." Clara nodded.

"Alright, but all of you will need a bit of a backstory first." She took a deep breath, and then she asked. "Has anyone here ever read the book, _Futility,_ by Morgan Robertson?" Everyone at the table shook their heads, not sure where she was going with this. "Well, I haven't either, but I do know the basic synopsis of the story, because mother told me before she died. In the book, there's a grand liner, much like this ship. It was known as the _Titan."_ She paused, watching the looks of surprise exchange between everyone at the table at the similarity between the names of the fictional ship and the _Titanic._ "Like the _Titanic,"_ she went on. "The _Titan_ was remarkably similar, in both steel and in rumors. I read in the papers, Mr. Ismay, Mr. Andrews, about the basic facts of the ship. You, Mr. Ismay, were reported to say, and I quote, '_Titanic_ is over sixty-six thousand tons in displacement, and is over eight hundred and eighty two feet long.' In the story, Robertson made his to be over seventy thousands tons of displacement, and was measured to be eight hundred feet long. I'd also like to take the liberty to add that both ships could carry over three thousand people on board. I'm not quite sure what the current number of people on board_ Titanic_ is, but I certainly hope there are enough lifeboats on board…" She paused for a moment to take a sip out of her grape juice that the waiters had presented to her instead of champagne.

"Why are you concerned about that?" Mr. Andrews asked.

"Well, Mr. Andrews," she replied. "Like _Titanic,_ the _Titan_ was also determined to be 'the unsinkable ship,' and because of that, no one bothered to be concerned about the fact that there weren't enough lifeboats on board for everyone. This, however, turned out to be a terrible mistake."

"Why?" asked Mr. Ismay in alarm. "What happened?"

"The exact same thing that I fear is going to happed to _Titanic,_ Mr. Ismay," Clara replied. "She sank." The table became very quiet. "She struck an iceberg in the middle of her voyage, and she took down with her over a thousand souls of innocent people. My song reflects that. It starts off with a joyous, enchanting melody filled with hope and love, but at the bridge, it swiftly changes into a chaotic, hauntingly fearful piece of music."

Everyone at the table, including Cal and Ruth, exchanged stares of shock.

"It is my belief, Mr. Ismay, Mr. Andrews," Clara continued. "That you both are trying to make a reality out of such a dreadful matter. Like I said before, I don't know for sure how many lifeboats there are, or the number of how many people that are on board, but I do know for sure that people also calledthe _Titan,_ 'an unsinkable ship.' I certainly hope you're both ready to face the consequences of saying such things if that phrase turns out to be a curse, rather than a blessing."

"I wouldn't be concerned about that, Clara," said Mr. Andrews after a few moments of awkward silence. "I can assure you that _Titanic_ is up-to-date with the latest technologies. She's strong and sturdy."

"I hope so, Mr. Andrews," said Clara. "I truly hope so…" Silence spread across the table once more.

"So," said Ruth, trying to break the tension. "Where exactly do you and your sister live, Mr. Dawson?" Jack gave a mental sigh. He was relieved that no one there had criticized Clara in any way about her strange concerns about the ship being cursed.

"Well, right now our address is the _RMS Titanic,"_He replied. "After that, we're on God's good humor."

"Then how is it you both have means to travel?" Ruth asked.

"Clara and I work our way from place to place," he explained. "You know, tramp steamers and such, but I happened to win our tickets on _Titanic_ here at a lucky hand at poker. A _very_ lucky hand."

"All of life is a game of luck!" said Colonel Gracie.

"A real man makes his own luck, Archie," Cal pointed out. "Right, Dawson?" Jack smiled and nodded.

"And you find that sort of rootless existence appealing?" Ruth said disdainfully. "You don't feel as though your sister deserves to have a proper education?" Jack frowned. This was a question he pondered constantly to himself every single day. Then, to everyone's surprise, Clara laughed.

"Please, excuse me," she said, feeling everyone stare at her. "But your question about proper education amuses me."

"How so?" Ruth asked, keeping her rage in check. "I see no reason to be laughing at such an important matter."

"Forgive me," Clara replied. "But with all due respect, Mrs. Dewitt Bukater, have you forgotten who we are?" Ruth blinked. She didn't understand what Clara meant.

"I beg your pardon?" she asked.

"Do you really think Jack could even afford for me to go to school?" Clara clarified. Ruth felt her cheeks go red in anger as nearly everyone laughed at Clara's common sense. A mere child had just made her a fool out of her!

"My God, Ruth," said the Countess, holding her stomach from laughing so hard. "She's absolutely right!"

"And anyways," said Jack, calming down the table. "Clara and I have everything we need right here with us. We've got the air in our lungs, we've got a few blank of paper…"

"And above anything else, Jack and I have each other!" Clara added, smiling adoringly up at Jack. He smiled back. "We love waking up in the morning not knowing where we're going to wind up, or whom we're going to meet, and where we're both going to wind up!"

"Just the other night, Clara and I were sleeping under a bridge," Jack emphasized. "And now, here we are, on the grandest ship in the world, drinking champagne and grape juice with you fine people!" Everyone chuckled.

"The world is a vast place," Clara added, "And Jack and I don't intend to waste our lives by not exploring it. Especially because of our father. He died in the town where he was born in, and where we were born, too, Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin. He never got the opportunity to see the world for himself."

"After all," said Jack, "You never know what hand your going to be dealt, next- oh, here you go Cal!" He tossed him a lighter. He had a cigarette in his lips, but couldn't find his lighter. "See, our folks died in a fire that destroyed our house when I thirteen, and Clara was three," he continued. "And we've been on the road together since then. Something like that taught that life is a gift, and we don't intend on wasting it. We live life as it comes at us."

"And to make each, and every single day count!" Clara added, smiling proudly.

"Well said Jack, Clara," said Molly.

"Here, here!" Said Colonel Gracie, fully agreeing with them.

Rose smiled, and raised her glass of champagne to propose a toast.

"To making it count," she declared.

"To making it count!" Everyone echoed, raising their glasses as well. Jack and Clara could only smile as they raised their glasses as well.

Dinner progressed smoothly after that, much to Cal and Ruth's dismay. Everyone was completely charmed by the two steerage passengers. As dessert came around, Molly was entertaining them all with one of her stories of before she became wealthy.

"So, Mr. Brown had no idea I had hid the money in the stove, and then, he comes home to celebrate, and he goes and lights the fire!" Everyone laughed. They could just imagine it. Rose discreetly motioned for Jack and Clara to listen to her.

"Next it will be brandies in the smoking room," she said, nodding to the men. They were all getting to their feet.

"Well, join me in a brandy, gentlemen?" Colonel Gracie asked, as though Rose was narrating what they were about to say.

"Now they retreat into a cloud of smoke and congratulate each other in being masters of the universe," Rose explained.

"Ladies, thank you for the pleasure of your company," said Mr. Ismay as Cal turned to Rose.

"Shall I escort you back to your cabin?" He asked.

"No, I'll stay here," she replied, waving him off.

Jack, very discreetly, handed Molly back her pen as he and Clara got up as well.

"Are you and Clara joining us, Dawson?" Colonel Gracie asked, surprised. "I could understand why you wouldn't want to stay out here with the women, but your sister, too?" Jack chuckled and shook his head.

"No, no," he replied. "It's past Clara's bedtime. We need to be heading back." To emphasize his comment, Clara let out a small, refined yawn, and rubbed her eyes. Everyone chuckled at Clara's cuteness.

"That would probably be best," Cal said. "It's all business and politics, that sort of thing. It wouldn't interest either of you, but it was good of you both to come," he started to walk away. "Oh, Dawson!" Jack and Clara turned around, neither of them quite sure which of them he was referring to. "To making it count!" He tossed Jack back his lighter, and then left, Lovejoy at his heels. Jack and Clara turned to face Rose, who now looked very depressed.

"Jack," she said wistfully. "Must you and Clara go?"

"Time for us to go row with the other slaves," said Clara, pretending to be saddened.

"Goodnight, Rose," Jack said, slipping a small piece of paper in her hand as he kissed it. Clara, holding her nutcracker in one hand, waved goodbye to her with the other as they left the dining room. Rose made sure to wait until her mother wasn't looking to open it. It read:

_**Make it count.**_

_**Meet us at the clock.**_

"Mother?" Rose said, hiding the slip of paper. "I'm feeling a little tired, I think I'll turn in early."

"Very well," Ruth replied. "I'll see you in the morning." Rose quickly left, wanting to find Jack and Clara.

She found them standing on the grand staircase, staring at the clock. She went over to them. They both turned when they heard her approach.

"So," Jack said, smirking at Rose's look of confusion. "Do you want to go to a real party?"


	5. A Kiss at the Bow

**Whoo! I finally updated this! It was very difficult to write about Rose not wanting Jack! **

**I would also like to bring up a fact that had been brought to my attention by one of my reviewers about Clara:**

**Why, you ask, is she so grown up, and not acting like the little girl she is? Why doesn't she spend her time playing with Cora? Clara has always, for as long as she can remember, been with Jack, so she sticks to Jack like glue, following him around like a baby duckling follows its mother. Because of that, she has subconsciously developed his personality and way of thinking. Don't forget, she also was forced to grow up on the road for the past five years, and barely even remembers how life was when she and Jack had a permanent roof over their heads. Combine that fact with the other fact that she has come to realize that with their mom and dad dead, they need to survive and make their limited time on earth count, and you get where her way of thinking comes from.**

* * *

><p>"Welcome back to third-class, Rose!" Clara said, leading the way down the stairwell to the lower decks. As soon as they were out of the first-class area, Jack and Clara had let out deep breaths of relief. Rose only laughed when Jack loosened the tie around his neck after removing his dinner jacket and ran his fingers through his slicked back hairstyle, ruffling it up, while Clara removed the ribbon in her hair and yanked off the annoying party gloves. She understood they were both glad to be free of all the tension they had felt at the first-class party. Now they could truly act like themselves again, at one of their own parties. Rose slowly entered, not quite sure what to expect.<p>

The room was already alive with rambunctious, happy faces of people dancing and shouting. There were men and women of all ages twirling around shamelessly across the small makeshift stage, men partnered with men just dancing to the Irish folk music the band was playing, and there were small groups scattered about, shouting in triumphant laughter as they drank down gallons of beer and smoked cigarettes as they cheered on the men foolish enough to challenge other men to drinking contests and arm wrestling matches. And the music… it was so incredibly different to the waltzes Rose was accustomed to. One man was beating a drum, setting a steady, fast-paced rhythm as the men next to him played all sorts of Irish instruments. One man was banging a small tambourine, and another was sending out melodies from the bagpipes he was playing. One guy was playing a ragged melody on the out-of-tune piano Rose had seen earlier that day, where they were all gathered, as the man sitting on top of it used a fiddle. They were all laughing joyfully as they sent out wild, lively tunes. Rose could only smile at the sight. Jack and Clara had been right. She could tell already that _this_ was nothing compared to the first-class party they had just come from. No, _this_ was a real party…

"Jack!" Clara shouted over the thunderous crowd to make sure he heard her. "Will you dance with me?" Jack and Rose laughed.

"Of course," Jack replied with a smile. "Just let me find a place for Rose sit down, first." His eyes scanned the room, searching for Tommy or Fabrizio. He knew she wouldn't be asked to do anything scandalous with one of the already drunk men so long as they were with her. After scanning the room several times, he spied Fabrizio locked in a dance with the blonde Norwegian girl he had been talking to this morning, Helga. He grinned, and kept looking around for Tommy. He was glad his friend was enjoying some romance. He managed to find Tommy; he was sitting with the two Swedes that shared their cubicle with as he smoked a cigarette. He quickly pushed his way through the crowd, dragging Rose and Clara behind him. Tommy saw them approach.

"Jackie boy! Little lass, Clara!" He shouted over the music as he waved them over. "Where have yeh both been? We started the party without yeh!"

"Hi, Tommy!" Clara said cheerfully.

"Yes, sorry we're late," Jack said as the three of them sat down at the small table. "We needed to pick up a friend of ours." He nodded to Rose, who politely smiled.

"Lovely friend, I must say," said Tommy jokingly as he shook hands with Rose. She blushed.

"Rose, this is Tommy Ryan," said Clara, going right on ahead with the introductions. "And Tommy, this our new friend Rose Dewitt Bukater." Then, an evil idea came to her child mind, and she couldn't resist the urge to say it out loud. "She's Jack's girlfriend!" Jack and Rose turned scarlet.

"Cl-Clara!" Rose spluttered, trying very hard not to shout.

"Oh, that does it, squirt!" Jack shouted, pretending to be angry. "I'm not gonna dance with you now!" Clara's laughter subsided almost immediately.

"But, you promised!" She shouted back.

"I don't dance with liars!" He shot back playfully. Tommy and Rose couldn't help but laugh when they saw the panicked look on her face.

"No, no, no!" she said, waving her hands in front of her face. "I'm not lying! I was just teasing you! That's all!" Jack laughed and pretended to think it over.

"Well, if that's all, I suppose spare _one_ dance…" Clara let out a squeal of triumph.

"Rose!" She shouted, turning to face her. "Could you hold my nutcracker for me?" She smiled and nodded. "Thanks!" Jack and Clara ran off onto the dance floor as the next tune started. It was a little difficult, since Jack was twice the size of his sister, but they still somehow managed to twirl effortlessly around everyone else, screaming joyfully at the top of their lungs. They passed by Fabrizio dancing with Helga several times, and they waved to each other.

"Is it okay to put my hand here?" They heard him ask her at one point. She had blushed and nodded. "Okay!"

Rose could only smile and laugh as she and Tommy watched them. They weren't focusing so much on the intricate footwork some of the others dancers were doing, she noticed. They were simply just dancing and having a swell time. She couldn't believe it. She knew if she were to ever dance like _that_ at one of the parties in first-class, her mother would probably drop dead in shock.

As the song came to an end, Jack and Clara came back to the table, laughing whole-heartedly as they sat back down.

"That was incredible!" Clara screamed, holding her stomach from laughing so hard. "I can't even breath, that was so much fun!"

"I'll find yeh some water, lassie," Tommy said, getting to his feet, and vanishing into the happy mob of people. Jack felt someone's eyes on him, and glanced to the side to see Rose staring at him. Rose blushed, and turned away. She had been so caught up in a vision about Jack and her possibly dancing right now to the folk music; she hadn't even realized she had been looking at him until he had looked her way. Jack smiled, and got to his feet. He, too, could imagine how wonderful it would be to dance with her. He was about to offer her his hand to escort her out onto the dance floor, when he felt something tugging on the leg of his pants. He turned around, surprised. Five-year-old Cora Cartmell was standing behind him, fiddling with the hem of her dress so no one would see the obvious blush on her petite face.

"Um… Uncle Jack?" she said in a quiet mumble, glancing up at him slightly. "Could… could you…?"

"Would you like to dance, Cora?" he asked her. She smiled brightly and nodded. Clara, Rose, and Tommy, who was returning with the water and an extra jug of beer for Rose, laughed as Jack started to twirl her around in place a few feet away. Cora was much smaller than Clara, so Jack couldn't go and lead her all over the room like he had with her. He simply let her stand on his feet as he spun her around, watching her laugh in enjoyment.

One of the Swedes tried to ask Rose to dance in Swedish as Jack danced with Cora, but she didn't know Swedish, and couldn't understand what he was saying.

"I can't understand you," she finally said after asking several times, pointing to her ear. He got the message just as the song came to a close. Jack knelt down to Cora's level.

"I'm going to dance with her now," he told her, pointing to Rose. "Alright?" Cora nodded. Rose, however, was shocked. "Come on," Jack said, taking her hand. "Come with me."

"Wait, Jack!" Rose said as he pulled her to her feet. "Jack, wait… I can't do this…" He couldn't help but smile at her apprehension.

"We're going to have to get a little bit closer," he said with a grin, pulling her closer to him. "Like this…" Rose smiled and turned her head away slightly to hide her flushed cheeks. Then she giggled, and nodded for Jack to look where she was looking. He turned. Cora was standing there, glaring angrily at Rose. It was so obvious that Cora had a crush on him. He chuckled.

"You're still my best girl, Cora," he assured her. That brought a smile back to her face. Jack turned back to Rose, and started to move her through the other swirling bodies.

"I… I don't know the steps!" Rose protested, feeling him lead her into a simple dance.

"Neither do I!" he shouted back over the music. "Just go with it, and don't think!" She smiled, and simply allowed herself to do as he asked. He led her across the floor in a wild jig, and she screamed with laughter and joy, having never quite experienced dancing like this before in her entire life. From the table, Clara and Tommy cheered as they watched them throng their way through clusters of dancing couples, screaming happily. Rose laughed, too. She had never felt so wild and free in her entire life, and her grip on Jack tightened as he whirled them around. From the corner of his eye, Jack spied Fabrizio leading Helga up on stage to dance. He smiled, and started to lead Rose over. He could hardly believe that the happy woman he was dancing with right now had actually tried to kill herself less than twenty-four hours ago…

"Wait! Jack! Jack!" she shouted. "No! Stop, Jack!" He ignored her. He knew she didn't really mean it. She was having too good of a time. He led her up the steps, and glanced out toward the crowd. Everyone was watching them, now. Moving a few strands of hair from his face, Jack proceeded to clog a few steps to the beat of the music, something he had picked up during his and Clara's travels. Everyone was impressed, especially Rose. She didn't know he could dance. She smirked, and kicked off her shoes. She tossed them over to Clara in the crowd before turning back to Jack. She lifted her skirt of her dress to reveal her stocking feet, and started to clog along with him. He clapped, just as impressed with her as she was with him, and clogged away with her.

Clara couldn't help herself. It just looked like so much fun. She gently set her nutcracker and Rose's shoes down on the table, and ran out to join them. Jack and Rose laughed as Clara stumbled through the steps, trying her best to imitate them. Knowing she wouldn't be able to do it properly, Jack simply linked both his arms in hers and Rose's and started to dance in a circle with them before locking his hands with each of theirs, and started to spin them around faster and faster.

Jack, Rose, and Clara laughed and screamed with joy as they spun around each other, they were having so much fun. The crowds of onlookers were completely forgotten.

The three of them grew tired after a while and went back to the table, all flushed and sweaty, where Tommy was currently engaged in an arm wrestling match with one of the Swedes as a small crowd gathered around them cheered. Fabrizio and Helga were already there.

"How you two doing?" Jack asked him, nodding to Helga.

"I don't know what she saying, she don't know what I say," Fabrizio said, grinning madly, "So we get along fine." Clara laughed as Jack carefully maneuvered his way around the wrestlers to get to their drinks. Jack and Clara sipped the cool liquids, both of them were glad to taste the refreshing drink. Rose, however, was chugging down her cup of beer.

"What?" She asked, seeing them stare at her. "You think a first-class girl can't drink?" Jack and Clara couldn't help but laugh. Rose was certainly full of surprises.

A lone drunkard suddenly toppled into Jack, who accidently sprayed the rest of his drink all over Rose and Clara. "Get out of here!" Jack shouted as he shoved him away. Then he turned to the girls. "Are you two alright?"

Rose just laughed. She was beyond being 'alright.' Aside from having to explain to her mother later on about the ruined dress, she was having the most magical night in her entire life. How could she even possibly begin explain how great she felt? She settled with just spluttering out, "I'm fine!"

"Yep, me too, Jack!" said Clara. An explosion of cheers behind them made the three of them turn. Tommy had just lost the match, and Swedish man was boasting joyously. Rose smirked. She knew how to set him in his place.

"So," she shouted to him, shutting the entire table up. "You think you're a big tough man? Let's see you do this." She seized the cigarette Tommy was smoking and puffed it before turning to Jack. "Hold this for me Jack," she said, lifting her skirts. "Hold it up." Jack did as she asked. He was just as curious as everyone else was as to what she was about to do. Rose closed her eyes, and raised her arms. Very, very slowly, she raised herself up on her toes. Everyone watched in shock as she stood for a full two seconds on the very tips of her toes. Then she fell back, laughing madly, in Jack's arms. Everyone around them clapped in astonishment.

"Are you alright?" Jack asked. She nodded.

"Rose, that was amazing!" Clara shouted. Rose laughed.

"I haven't done that in years," She told them. The three of them laughed. Nobody noticed that a middle-aged man in a fancy suit on the stairwell that had been watching the three of them all this time, go back up the stairs in all the excitement.

Another jig started up, and someone in the crowd shouted something in another language as he started a reel. Fabrizio grabbed on, taking Rose's hand. Laughing, she grabbed onto Jack, who took hold of Clara, and around and around they went. Laughing joyfully.

* * *

><p>Jack, Rose, and Clara were still laughing, despite not being down in third-class anymore. After the party had ended, Jack had offered to walk Rose back upstairs to the first-class lounge. She had accepted, so Jack and Clara, tagging along for the piggyback ride, had started to take her back. But none of them wanted the night to end, so they were walking slowly, singing the lyrics to one of the songs they had heard at the party.<p>

"_Come, Josephine, in my flying machine, going up she goes, up she goes,"_ they sang wildly. They were just repeating the refrain, since none of them knew the lyrics to the verses. Before they knew it, they were in front of the first-class entrance, and they all became very quiet. It was time for Rose to go back. Back to being the miserable first-class beauty that was engaged to Caledon Hockley. But Rose didn't want to go back, yet. Somehow, staying there with Jack and Clara seemed nice…

"Here we are…" she finally said, taking off the dinner jacket Jack had placed over her shoulders and gave it back to him.

"Right," Jack said sadly, setting Clara down to take the jacket. Clara didn't say anything. It was too painful for her to say goodbye.

"I don't want to go back," Rose admitted, staring up at the night sky. "Look," she whispered. "It's so beautiful…"

"Yeah," Clara said, walking over to the railing as she gazed upwards. "It's so vast and endless!" Jack and Rose chuckled.

"The stars are so small," Rose commented, "Not like my crowd… They think they're giants… They're not even dust in God's eyes."

"You know, there's been a mistake," said Jack suddenly. Rose and Clara turned to him, confused by what he meant. "You're not one of them. _You _got mailed to the wrong address." Rose laughed.

"I did, didn't I?" Clara and Jack laughed along. Suddenly, Rose pointed back up at the sky. "Look! A shooting star!"

The three of them watched as it streaked across the dark night sky. Jack smiled as it faded from sight.

"That was a long one," he murmured. Then he turned to Clara. "Say, Clara, do you remember what pops used to tell us about shooting stars?" She thought for a few moments, but then finally shook her head.

"No, I'm sorry, Jack," she said.

"No worries, I'll refresh your memory," he said ruffling her no longer curled hair. She giggled. "Pops used to say that whenever you see one, it was a soul going to heaven. I doubt you remember, but we wound up seeing two shooting stars the night he and mom died." Clara's eyes widened, and she hugged her nutcracker even tighter.

"Did we really?" Clara asked. He nodded.

"Yep, that's why I know where they are now, Clair. They're in heaven, watching over the two of us."

"I like that idea," Rose said, smiling at the thought. "Say, aren't we supposed to wish on it?"

"Why?" Jack asked turning to her. He could feel her breath upon his face, they were so close. If he were to move his face just an inch closer to hers, he would have his lips upon hers… "What would you wish for?"

Rose was quiet for a moment as she stared at into his deep blue eyes to avoid staring at how close his lips were to hers. She knew exactly what she would wish for. She would wish to be free of living her life in a closed off shell. She would wish to be able to follow her dreams, and to see the world. She would wish to be able to live the rest of her life with Jack…

"Something I can't have," she finally said. "Goodnight, Jack, Clara." Jack and Clara watched as she sadly went inside. Clara glanced up at Jack. He was frowning. It was obvious to her that he was heartbroken by her reply. Even to a little girl like Clara, it was clear that Jack and Rose were developing feelings for each other.

"You have to tell her, big brother." Jack glanced down at Clara. "Before it's too late."

"Wh-what are you talking about, Clair?" he asked, his cheeks turning red. She gave him a knowing look.

"I may be only eight years-old, Jack, but I'm not an idiot. I can tell you like her." He blushed and looked away. "Listen to my advice. Tell her now, before it's too late. Don't forget, she's engaged to that Hockley guy. Once the ship docks, we'll likely never see her again."

"I… You're right…" he finally said, running his fingers through his hair. "You're absolutely right, Clara. I should tell her…" Clara smiled. "But tomorrow," he continued. "I'll tell her tomorrow. It's late, and she's probably tired, and besides," he paused to scoop her up. "It really _is _way past your bedtime." Clara laughed.

"So first thing tomorrow, then?" She asked. He nodded.

"Yep, first thing tomorrow."

* * *

><p>In the private Promenade Deck in the Millionaire Suite, early the next morning, Rose was having a silent breakfast with Cal. Cal was tense, but Rose didn't even notice. The events of last night were still swirling around inside her head. She could hardly believe she had actually smiled for real, and laughed whole-heartedly last night. Before last night, she couldn't even remember the last time she had ever been truly happy…<p>

"I had hoped you would come to me, last night," Cal suddenly said, bringing Rose back to the present.

"I was tired," she replied curtly, wanting to end the conversation. She wished to continue remembering last night. He glared at her.

"Your exertions below decks were no doubt exhausting," he stated. Rose stiffened.

"I see you had that undertaker of a manservant follow me," Rose replied a moment later as she sipped her tea, her ever-present mask shielding her true emotions. "How typical…" His glare intensified.

"You will never behave like that again, Rose," he ordered. "Do you understand?"

Rose shot him a glare of her own. She used to be fine with the way he treated her. She used to tell herself there was no reason to talk back to him, because all men thought like this. But that was before she met Jack. "I'm not a foreman in one of your mills that you can command!" She said bravely. "I'm your fiancé!" Cal's tight control over his short temper finally snapped.

"My fiancé? Yes, you are, and my wife!" He screamed, knocking the table over with a sweep of his hand. Rose sat in her breakfast chair, frozen in shock, as the china shattered on the deck planks. She had never seen Cal angry towards her before. "You're my wife in practice, if not yet by law," he snarled, gripping the sides of her chair, trapping her petite body to his. Rose's entire body started to tremble. She was terrified he would strike her, or worse… "So you _will_ honor me! You will honor me the way a wife is required to honor her husband, because I will _not_ be made out a fool, Rose! Is this in any way unclear?" Rose could only shake her head. She was too scared to do anything else.

"N-no!" She spluttered, fighting back the tears that desperately wanted to fall.

"Good," he said coolly, wiping invisible dust away from his pressed trousers as he got off of her. "Excuse me." And then he left, as though nothing had even happened.

"Ms. Rose!" said a voice behind her. Rose's head whipped around. Trudy was running over to her. It was obvious by the look on her face that she had seen the entire thing.

"Oh, Trudy!" Rose whimpered, slowly rising from her chair to try and help her clean up the mess. "We… we had a little… a little accident-"

"It's alright, miss," Trudy said, rushing to her side.

"Pl-please," Rose said, her voice trembling, "L-let me h-help you-"

"It's _alright,_ miss," Trudy said again, taking her in her arms. Rose couldn't stop the tears that started to cascade down her porcelain cheeks. "It wasn't your fault, Ms. Rose," Trudy comforted her.

Rose wasn't sure how long exactly she sat there, being comforted like a small child, but after a while, Trudy slowly helped her back up to her feet.

"I'll take care of this later," she said. "I think you'll feel better once you change." Rose, although no longer crying, just gave her a blank nod. The wonderful mood she had been in had taken a huge turn for the worse.

Trudy led her back to her room, selected a dress for her to wear, and then started to dress her. As she started to tighten her corset, her mother came in. She was wearing the same look of disapproval she had worn at dinner the previous evening.

"Tea, Trudy," she said in a rather curt, dismissive manner.

"Yes, ma'am," Trudy said, curtsying politely before leaving. As soon as she left, Ruth shut the door behind her and locked it. Then she went over to Rose, continuing to tighten the corset from where Trudy had left off. Rose had to cling onto the bedpost to stay upright. She was pulling it tighter than it had ever been on her before.

"You are not to see that boy again, or that little girl," her mother said strictly, yanking the laces tightly so Rose couldn't breath. It was obvious that Cal had informed her of what had happened after dinner last night. "Rose?" Her mother said when she didn't reply. "I forbid it!"

"Oh, stop it mother," Rose snapped, half from anger at how she was treating her like a child, half from the fact she could barely even breathe from how hard she was tightening the corset. "You'll give yourself a nosebleed!" Ruth whipped her around to see her furious expression. This was the most amount of emotion Rose had ever seen from her mother in years.

"This is not a game!" she snapped. "Our situation is precarious! You know the money's gone!" Rose sneered at her mother. Of course she knew. They were bankrupt from the medical bills her father had left behind after going into the hospital. Their debts were the only reason why she was even engaged to Cal at all. He had money, and could keep them financially secure once they were married.

"Of course I know it's gone," she stated coolly. "You remind me every day." Ruth was livid. Her gaze hardened as she spoke.

"Your father," she hissed, "left us nothing but a legacy of bad debts, hidden by a good name! That name is the only card we have to play! I don't understand you! It is a fine match with Hockley. It will ensure our survival!" Rose could only glare at Ruth. What was so great about the match with Cal? He was a self-centered bastard that only cared about money and his image. Rose didn't even care about his wealth. If the public ever did find out she and her mother had no money now, she wouldn't mind. She would prefer to actually go and work then sit and take tea every day at three o'clock. They could do all right even without money.

"How can you put this on my shoulders?" Rose finally said after several moments.

"Why are you being so selfish?" Ruth snapped.

"_I'm_ being selfish?" Rose demanded, not believing her ears. Ruth was silent for quite some time, just staring at her.

"…Do you want to see me working as a seamstress, or not?" she whispered, horrified by the very thought of having to work. "To see our fine things sold at auction? Our memories scattered to the winds?" She turned away, placing a hand over her mouth as she envisioned the scenario. Rose could only frown and glanced down at her feet. She was constantly forgetting why she was even going through with the engagement at all. Her mother had always been well off. She didn't know any of the basic skills that were required to even get a job in the real world. Rose, on the other hand, could. She had been taught at her finishing school in France when she was fifteen the basics of sewing, and even knew how to bake simple, elegant desserts. She could easily get a job in a bakery or as a seamstress somewhere. Her mother, however, couldn't. The finishing school she had gone to when she was younger only taught proper etiquette, not the extras. Her mother may be exactly what her name stated she was, 'ruthless,' but she was still her mother. She loved her, and she knew her mother loved her, too, even if she didn't show it. That's why she had to do this. She would do it for her mother. She would sacrifice her own happiness for her mother's. Her only regret would that she would never see Jack and Clara again, though. Not even one last time, to say goodbye…

"It's so unfair…" Rose whispered to herself. Ruth turned around to look at her.

"Of course it's unfair," she replied, thinking that Rose had been speaking to her. "We're woman. Our choices are never easy…" She gave her gentle kiss on the cheek.

_She's showing her love for me…_ Rose told herself as she fought back tears as Ruth turned her back around so she could continue tugging the laces of her corset. _I have to do this, because I love her, too…_

* * *

><p>"Are you positive it's in the dining hall, Jack?" Clara asked, holding her nutcracker tightly as she and Jack navigated their way through the first-class decks, trying to find their way back to the first-class dining room, where the Sunday service was now being held. Rose would most likely be attending with her mother and Cal.<p>

"Positive," Jack replied. "I remember overhearing someone say last night at dinner that church was going to be held there this morning."

They were truly out-of-place, dressed as they were in their lower level clothes. Jack was wearing a simple blue coat over a white cotton shirt, brown trousers with suspenders, and a brown pair of boots. His hair was no longer slicked back as he had had it at the first-class party last night. The curls in Clara's hair that Molly had made had long since returned to their to natural straightness over the course of the night as well. She had on a simple, dark green cotton dress with boots like his. Many first-class passengers that weren't attending morning mass and were instead getting an early morning start to their day gave them peculiar stares as they walked past them, but they didn't dare approach them. Jack and Clara were of the steerage levels. They didn't want to possibly catch lice from them.

"Ah, here's the first class entrance," Jack said, opening the door. They went inside. They could hear people singing the hymn, _"Almighty Father Strong to Save,"_ downstairs. They went down the Grand Staircase. They spied Mr. Andrews standing there, apparently making an inspection of some sort on the craftsmanship of the oriental wood railings.

"Hello, Mr. Andrews," Jack said.

"Good morning, Mr. Andrews," Clara said politely. He glanced up from the black book he was taking notes in and smiled.

"Hello, Jack, Clara," he said kindly as they walked by. They went down the last few steps to the double doors that led inside. The two stewards minding it kept them from entering.

"Sir, miss," said one of them, stepping in front of the doors. "You're not supposed to be in here."

"We just need to speak to someone for second," Jack said, he and Clara trying to move past him. The stewards pushed them away.

Cal, still singing the hymn, noticed the commotion by the doors. Anger fueled inside him when he saw it was the gutter rat and the mouse from steerage. How dare they come back here! He discreetly glanced over at Rose. He was worried she had seen as well. He saw she hadn't, that was a relief. He could sense that Rose, whenever she was around the child, would forget her place as a young lady in high society. As for whenever she was around that boy… He clenched his fists. He had seen at dinner last night the way they had stared at each other, and he absolutely refused to lose Rose to some penniless vagabond. He signaled for Lovejoy to deal with them.

"We were here just last night!" Clara protested, her free hand on her hip in irritation by the persistence of the stewards. "You don't remember either of us?"

"No, I'm afraid I don't," said one of the stewards, his patience beginning to wear thin. "Now, your both going to have to turn around-"

"He'll tell you," Jack stated, pointed at Lovejoy as he exited the dining room.

"Please, Mr. Lovejoy," said Clara, "we just need-"

"Mr. Hockley," Lovejoy stated, interrupting her. "And Mrs. Dewitt Bukater, continue to be appreciative of you both for your assistance. They asked me to give each of you this, in gratitude." He reached into the pocket of his jacket and took out two twenty-dollar bills. Jack was furious at the sight of the money. Were these people so short-minded that they actually believed they could solve everything with money? He and Clara weren't factory workers they could tip off in order to keep quiet. They were both human beings that understood the difference between giving out money as pure generosity, and using it merely to bribe someone. It took all of his willpower to stay polite.

"We don't want your money," he said, fighting to keep his voice in a neutral tone, "Please, we-"

"And also," Lovejoy interrupted, "to remind both of you that you both hold third-class tickets, and that your presence here is no longer appropriate."

"Please," Clara snapped, enraged by his statements. "We just need to speak to Rose for one second-"

"Will you both see to it," Lovejoy interrupted once again, addressing the two stewards, "That the _Dawson's,"_ he shot Jack and Clara a dirty look as he gave the stewards the money that Jack had refused. "Get back to where they belong, and that they stay there?"

"Yes sir," one of them said, gracious of the enormous tip. "Come along, both of you." He grabbed Jack by the sleeve of his jacket as the other actually seized Clara by the wrist, and led them both back down to the third-class decks.

"And stay out of first-class, from now on!" One of them shouted, slamming the gate behind them. Clara waited until they were both far enough away not to hear them before turning to Jack.

"We're not going to just sit here and not try again, are we, Jack?" she asked. Jack, glaring angrily in the direction that the stewards had gone, furiously shook his head.

"No," he replied. "We're not. Follow me, sis." He started walking away from the gate. Clara followed him, confused.

"Wait, where are we going?" she asked. "The gate's right there!"

"We're not going to go up that way," he explained. "We're going to have sneak up there."

"Oh, I see." She said. "But how?"

"Just follow me. I know a place where we can climb up there easily." She nodded to show she understood. As they made their way through E-Deck, Fabrizio and Tommy saw them.

"Morning, boyo, lass," he said. They just nodded to say hello. He and Fabrizio were puzzled by their dismissive behavior.

"Jack, Clara," said Fabrizio, he and Tommy following after them. "Where you going?"

"We're going to see Rose," Clara said, following Jack up the stairs and through the gate that led to the second-class decks. Tommy nearly swallowed his cigarette.

"She's a goddess among mortal men, there's no denying," he said as he Fabrizio kept following them up the steps. "But she's in another world, Jack, Clara! Forget her. She's up there closing the door. Just forget her, both of yeh!"

"It was them, not her," Jack protested, jumping up to reach the railing of the first-class decks, and scrambling over them. Tommy sighed.

"They're not bein' logical, I tell yeh," he mumbled.

"_Amore_ isn't logical." Fabrizio stated. Clara chuckled.

"He's a man in love," she said, grabbing her attention. "And no man in love is, and I stick by big brother no matter what." She quickly glanced around to see if any stewards or crewmen were around. They weren't. "Ready… go!" They hoisted her up so Jack could reach her. He grabbed her nutcracker first so it wouldn't get damaged, and set it down next to him before hoisting her over the railing as well.

"Hey, you two!" said a crewmember, who, luckily, only saw Fabrizio and Tommy and not Jack and Clara on the decks above. "Get back to where you belong!"

"We go, we go!" Fabrizio said, he and Tommy running down the stairs leading back down to third-class. He locked it behind them. Jack and Clara both breathed deep sighs of relief. That had been way too close.

"Jack," Clara whispered. "We can't walk around like this!" she gestured to their clothing. "People will know we're not of first-class!"

"You're right," he whispered back. He glanced around, searching for something they could use to disguise themselves. He quickly spied a man with his children, a little boy and a little girl, playing with a top attached to a string a few yards away. The man's overcoat and bowler hat were discarded on a deck chair near him and Clara, along with the girls' mint green wool coat and matching hat. He gestured for Clara to hide behind a deck crane.

"Wait there," he whispered, "I'll be right back!" He quietly snuck behind the family, grabbed the coats and the hats, and calmly walked back over to Clara, who was watching from behind the deck crane in shock.

"What? We're stealing now?" She whispered, not believing her eyes as he took off his blue jacket, threw it over the railing towards the third-class decks, and put on the overcoat. Despite living on the road for over five years, the one thing they had never resorted to was stealing.

"No, we're just borrowing," he whispered back, gathering some spit on his hand and slicking back the sides of his hair before putting on the hat. "We'll dump them somewhere after we see Rose, I promise. Someone will find them and return them to their owners."

"Well, alright…" she said hesitantly, putting on the jacket and hat. They could easily pass as first-class passengers at a distance.

"Alright," Jack said, taking her hand. "Let's go find Rose." They started off down the decks, not quite sure where to go. Sunday service was long since over, so she could be anywhere.

"Jack!" Clara whispered, "She's over there!"

He glanced in the direction she was discreetly pointing to. She was right. Rose was walking out of the gymnasium with her mother, Cal, and Mr. Andrews, who was giving them the basic facts about the ship.

"It looks like she's on a tour of the ship," he whispered, "We'll have to be patient, and approach her when no one's looking."

"Okay," she whispered back. They casually walked in their direction until they came to a halt a safe distance away. They both pretended to be looking over one of the lifeboats to view the horizon, but in reality, Jack and Clara were eavesdropping on the tour that Mr. Andrews was now providing in the wheelhouse.

"…And why do you have two steering wheels?" they overheard Ruth ask.

"We really only this near shore-" Mr. Andrews started to say, but it was interrupted by a voice that neither Jack nor Clara recognized.

"Excuse me, Captain," said the voice of an unknown young man, "another ice warning. This one is from the _Noordam."_

"Thank you, Sparks," Captain Smith replied, as Clara's entire body went rigid. Jack set a hand on her shoulder to make her relax. Almost as though he could sense Clara's apprehension about the incoming ice, Smith chuckled as Sparks' footsteps faded away. "Oh, not to worry," he said. "Quite normal for this time of year. In fact, we're speeding up. I've just ordered the last four boilers lit."

Jack literally had grab Clara by the wrist tightly to stop her from sprinting inside. She shot him a dirty look as she struggled to get out of his grip.

"Let me go!" she hissed quietly to avoid drawing attention to themselves. "I've got to warn him about the ship being cursed!"

"No!" Jack said in a firm tone. "You'll blow our cover!"

"The ship will sink otherwise, Jack!" she snapped back. "I just have this feeling!"

"Clara, listen to me!" He shot back in a tone she had never from him before. She stopped struggling and stared up at him. "Listen to me very carefully: that story mom told you before was just that, a _story!_ If you go running in there right now, not only will you be disregarded by everyone in there thinking your crazy, but you'll also lose our one opportunity to speak to Rose! Do you really want that happen?" Before she could reply, Mr. Andrews led the group back outside. They both resumed their roles as dignified first-class passengers.

Rose, however, was very bored. She had no interest in seeing the ship. But she knew she had to, to keep her mother and Cal happy. She was doing her best to ignore the thought of Jack, but something Clara had said last night at dinner was nagging at her in the back of her mind. She had done the calculations to herself as they were touring the upper decks, and she was concerned.

"Mr. Andrews, forgive me," she spoke up. "But, what Clara mentioned last night about the ship being as she put it, 'cursed,' got me thinking… And, I did the sum in my head, and with the number of lifeboats times the capacity you mentioned earlier… forgive me, but it appears she had a point. There seems there are not enough for everyone aboard, just like in that book she was comparing the ship, too."

"About half, actually." He replied. Jack held Clara's hand tightly to remind her where they were at. "Rose, you miss nothing, do you? In fact, I put in these new-type davits, which can take an extra row of boats inside this one." He gestured to the boats next to them, where Jack and Clara were standing. "But it was thought, by some, that the deck would look too cluttered. So, I was overruled." It took all of Clara's willpower to keep from screaming in shock at the stupidity he was showing.

"It's a waste of deck space as it is on an unsinkable ship," Cal muttered, hitting his cane against the nearest boat. Mr. Andrews laughed, but Rose frowned. He stared quizzically at her.

"What? Don't tell me you believed little Clara's tale about that story she was telling us last night?"

"…I'm not saying that I do, or do not believe her," she carefully replied. "I just feel she had a reasonable concern when it came to the iceberg and the lifeboats, and seeing that Captain Smith isn't concerned about the incoming ice, I was merely curious if there are enough lifeboats, merely _if_ something like the novel she was referring too did occur..." He chuckled.

"Well, then sleep soundly, young Rose," he replied. "I have built you a good ship, strong and true. She's the only lifeboat you need. Now," he replied, leading the group ahead. "Keep heading aft. The next stop will be the engine room." They walked right past Jack and Clara, Rose trailing behind the group slightly. They took this as their opportunity.

Jack gently took Rose by the shoulder. She turned, startled, but relaxed when she saw whom it was, feeling her heart leap at seeing the smile on his face. Then, as Clara gave her a discreet, friendly hug, she remembered the promise she made to herself. She had to reject them. She tried to pull out of Jack's grip and catch up to the others, but Jack kept a firm hold on her as he pulled her into the gymnasium, with Clara scurrying behind them.

"Rose!" Clara said excitedly once the door was closed. She was about to hug her again, but Rose pushed her away.

"Clara…" she whispered, not willing herself to glance down at the hurt expression on the little girl's face. "This is impossible, I can't see you or Jack…" She reached for the door. She had to get away from them, away from _Jack_ in particular, or else she knew she wouldn't be able to resist him otherwise. Jack, however, blocked the way to the door.

"I need to talk to you," he said, taking off his hat as Clara moved away slightly to the far corner to give them some privacy.

"No Jack, no…" she whispered, fighting back the tears she wished to shed from saying those words. She wanted nothing more than to feel his arms around her, for him to hold her as he whispered what he wished to say in her ear… she wanted nothing more than to allow Jack to be able to express the love she could tell he felt for her to her, every single day of her life… but she couldn't. She had to be strong, for her mother. Her mother loved her, and if she were to allow herself to be with Jack, it would mean she did not love her mother back. She had to reject him. She fought to keep a straight face as she looked up at him in the eye.

"Jack, I'm engaged," she stated, pretending not to feel the stab of pain in her heart when she saw him frown. "I'm marrying Cal. I… I _love_ Cal…" She wanted to vomit. It had sickened her to no extent to utter those words, and to Jack nonetheless. For a person to say that they were madly in love with someone they actually truly hated, to the person they truly had feelings for, was the worst thing a person could do. Not only to themselves, but also to the person they were in love with. Rose was almost certain Jack's heart shattered when she saw the look on his face, but then he spoke.

"Rose, you're no picnic…" he began. "You're a spoiled, little brat, even… but, under that," he gazed so deeply into her eyes, Rose was certain she was swimming in his ocean blue ones. "You are the most amazingly and astounding… wonderful girl… woman, that I've ever known… And…" He paused to look down at his feet. He had to make sure he worded this next part right, so that she understood how he felt, exactly. He had to make sure she knew that even though he was poor, the one thing he _could_ always offer her was his undying love. "And I'm not an idiot, I know how the world works… I've got ten bucks in pockets… I'm barely supporting my little sister…. I have… I have nothing to offer you, and I know that… I understand… But, I'm too involved now… If you jump, I jump remember? I… I can't turn away, not without knowing you'll be all right… That's… That's all that I want…"

Rose was certain her heart stopped. He had just spoken the most romantic words she had ever heard. It was almost like an implicit, 'I love you.' Cal never said such things to her… She wanted more than ever now to embrace him, to show him that she felt the exact same way towards him…

"Well, I'm fine…" she finally said, placing her first-class mask back on to shield her heart. "I'll be fine, really."

Jack's heart sank. He could tell she was lying. Not only to him, but to herself, as well.

"I don't think so…" He pointed sharply to the door. _"They _have got you trapped, Rose! You are going to _die_ if you don't break free! Maybe not right away, because they're strong, but," he placed a hand on her cheek, stroking it tenderly. "But sooner or later, that fire that I love about you, Rose… That fire's going to burn out…"

Rose nearly shed tears at his words. He was right. She knew he was right. She would die from living in a cage…

"It's… it's not up to you to save me, Jack," she whispered.

"You're right," he whispered back. "Only you can do that…"

"I… I'm going back!" she declared, not wanting him to see her cry. "Leave me alone!" She ran to the door.

"Rose." Her hand froze on the handle. She slowly turned around. She had forgotten Clara was here, too. She was looking at her with nothing short of pity.

"Rose," she said again, walking up to her so she could hold her hand. "Think about this for a minute… Is this really what you want? To be married to Cal? I saw the way first-class children behave last night at dinner. They don't even smile! Is that really what you want for your own children? To have that cruel man as their father and to have them live their life as miserably as you lived yours? For goodness sake, Rose, you tried to kill yourself two nights ago, you hated your life so much!"

Rose was frozen in shock. Clara was only a child, and yet she was one hundred percent correct. She had tried to break free of her life by killing herself just two days ago, but she and Jack and pulled her back. They had shown her just how truly wonderful life could be. She could just turn around right now and change her whole life. She could live her life the way she wanted to… but she couldn't. Her mother was depending on her. She tugged her hand out of Clara's and ran out the door. Jack had to lean on the wall as he felt his heart break into pieces.

"Jack, I'm so sorry," Clara whispered, hugging him in comfort.

"It's okay," he whispered as he hugged her back. "Come on, let's go."

* * *

><p>Rose sat with her mother hours later with the Countess and Lady Duff-Gordon, enjoying afternoon tea in the first-class lounge. She was not partaking in their conversation. She was merely listening, acting as still as a porcelain doll.<p>

"Tell Lucille about the disaster you had with the stationers," said the Countess.

"Well of course, the invitations had to be sent back," Ruth declared, gracefully setting down her cup of tea. "Twice."

"Oh, my dear!" said Lady Duff-Gordon, shocked.

"And the dreadful bridesmaids' gowns," Ruth added with disgust. "Let me tell you what an odyssey that has been! Rose decided she wanted lavender. She knows I detest the color, but she did it to spite me!"

"If only you'd come to me sooner…"

Rose tuned out the conversation. She did not wish to hear more of her mother saying how horrible she was right in front of her. Just listening to this conversation truly made her realize that she had been right from the start. Her mother really did not love her. If she really did love her, she would respect her choice on the bridesmaids' gowns. If she really loved her, she wouldn't be saying these things right in front of her to her so-called friends. She turned to look at the people enjoying tea at the table right next to them.

A little girl who appeared to be either four, or five years old, was sitting with her mother. She appeared to be struggling so hard to please her as she daintily took a cookie with a rather serious expression. Her mother wasn't satisfied. Rose watched sadly as the woman corrected the child's posture, and forced her to hold her teacup properly. The girl didn't even blink as her mother did this. She waited until she was placing her napkin elegantly on her lap to frown. Rose could only stare. Clara had been right. She _did not_ want to force her own daughters to be so miserable and unhappy as she trained them to be a dainty, Edwardian geishas. She didn't have the heart to be as cruel to her own children as her mother had been with her, but she would have to, if she stayed in this life…

Rose glanced back over at her mother. Maybe she was being selfish, but she couldn't be her slave anymore. She loved her mother, but her mother didn't truly love her back. It was time she did something for herself that would make her happy…

She excused herself from the table. She had to find Jack and Clara, now. She had to apologize to them, before it was too late…

* * *

><p>Jack and Clara were at the bow of the ship, absorbed in their sad thoughts. Jack was just standing at the railing, miserably watching the afternoon sun turn the blue sea into liquid gold. The only thing on his mind was Rose. He had poured his whole heart and soul to her, but she had rejected him. She had rejected him for that bastard Cal. If it weren't for Clara, he would have already jumped overboard himself, by now. He had never been in love before. He had never experienced the feelings he had felt whenever he was near Rose. Maybe if he had actually said the words, 'I love you, Rose,' she wouldn't have left, but he had been so nervous, he couldn't say them. Now she was gone. Gone forever…<p>

Clara was just as miserable as Jack was. After Rose had left them, she had gone back down to the third-class decks to get their portfolio with all their art and music in it. She wanted to express how miserable she and Jack were feeling right now in song. She was sitting against the railing next to him, trying to string together the melodies she had written down so far. Inspiration just wasn't flowing through her with this piece. The top part of the paper had the word, _**Untitled,**_ scribbled across it, and the words, _**Dedicated to Jack,**_ beneath it. Staring at the half-black page just made her feel even sadder. She wanted to pour out her sadness in the song, and be happy once she was done, but she couldn't do such a thing. Not without finding the needed inspiration, first…

"Hello, Jack, Clara," came a voice behind them. Jack and Clara turned to see Rose. She was positively beaming at them. "I changed my mind." She said.

Jack smiled, drinking in the beautiful creature standing before him. She had changed her mind. She had decided to be with him…

Clara ran up and hugged her, she was so happy. Rose giggled, hugging her back. Then she glanced back up at Jack.

"Fabrizio, said you both might be up-"

"Sssshh," he whispered, placing a finger to his lips. She stared at him, puzzled. A most wonderful idea had come to his mind just then, and he offered her his hand. "Give me your hand." Rose smiled and placed her hand in his, staring deep into his eyes. They were locked with hers, and were shining with the love he felt for her… "Now, close your eyes." She stared at him, perplexed as to what he was thinking. "Go on," he chuckled. She slowly did as she asked. Jack then moved behind Rose. "Now, step up and hold onto the railing. Keep your eyes closed, don't peek."

"I won't," she replied. The thought hadn't even crossed her mind. She was curious as to what Jack was intending to do. All she knew right then was that whatever would be happening next would live with her for the rest of her life.

"Step up," he whispered in her ear. "Onto the rail." He guided her to the very front most railing, carefully helping up. "Hold on," he whispered, so she would know to be careful. "Keep your eyes closed… Do you trust me?" he added. He didn't want Rose to be scared once she opened her eyes, he only wanted her to feel freedom that she craved, joy from what she would witness next, and above all, the love he felt for her…

Rose smiled, leaning into his embrace slightly. How could he even ask such a thing? The answer was clearly obvious. "I trust you…" she lovingly replied. He smiled as he ever so slowly took each of her hands in his. He gently lifted both her arms, and raised them until they were both outstretched on either side. Her satin shawl flew behind her, acting like a pair of wings trying to catch the breath of the wind...

"Alright," he whispered in her ear, bringing his arms around her waist to make sure she stayed balanced, "open your eyes…"

Rose slowly did as he said and gasped in amazement. The only thing in front of her was the beautiful ocean. It was almost as though the ship wasn't underneath them at all, but that they were soaring across the Atlantic as it unrolled toward them. It was shimmering in the golden glow of dusk, reflecting the orange and red rays of the setting sun on the distant horizon, and the wind… The wind was whipping past them, sending their hair flying out behind them…

"We're flying, Jack!" Rose cried, gently leaning against him. This was so magical. She had never known there could actually be moments as perfect as this, or as romantic… She sighed dreamily as Jack slowly brought his hands up to interlock with hers. He was as happy as she was. He had never expected to ever fall in love. Jack figured he would always live his life as a penniless vagabond, just barely scraping together enough money to feed him and Clara. He had never even had a small fling. Love doesn't exist for those who were constantly traveling, and yet, here he was, sharing the most romantic moment humanely possible on the grandest ship in the world with a young woman he was madly in love with. And she wasn't just any woman. She was Rose, a first-class beauty. She could have any man she wanted, and yet, she chose him… She wanted him_…_ She was his_…_

"_Come Josephine in my flying machine…"_ he softly sang. Rose giggled. _"And it's up she goes… up she goes…"_ Their fingers danced around each other as they interlocked. Jack slowly brought their arms down, wrapping their arms around Rose's waist to embrace her… She turned to look at him. The love she felt for Jack was deeper than the ocean itself…

At that moment, they both tilted their heads until they found the others lips, locking into a warm, gentle kiss. Their very first kiss. It started off innocent at first. Their lips moved against one another slowly, just tasting the love they felt for each other, but soon, the kiss deepened. Neither of them knew who had initiated it, but before Jack and Rose knew it, their lips were moving faster and forcefully against one another, turning into a mind dizzying, passionate kiss…

Rose raised one of her hands to run her fingers through Jack's hair. It was so soft, so perfect… just like him…

Clara was watching silently, but happily at the same time. How could she not be happy? Her only brother had found someone he truly loved. He had found Rose. She was so special, and so different from anyone Clara had ever known. The way they stared at each other was so intimate, and so filled with love, just like her mother and father had stared at each other. Clara had scattered images in her memory when it came to her and Jack's parents, but the one of the seldom things she could remember was of they had seemed to fall into heaven whenever they gazed at each other, like how Jack and Rose were gazing at each other now…

Clara started to hum. The inspiration she had been searching for had struck her so suddenly like a bolt of lightning.

She erased every note on the page. There was no reason to be writing a sad song, now. No, this song would be filled with love. It would be for them… She added on to the dedication: _**And The Woman I Hope He'll Marry One Day, Rose.**_ She glanced up at them, and then started to write down the first piano note…

* * *

><p>Jack and Rose slowly turned away from the monitor that displayed the now rusty bow draped with seaweed and moss to look back at the others.<p>

"That was the last time _Titanic_ ever saw daylight," Rose said sadly. Jack was squeezing her hand, staring at the nutcracker sadly as Lovett nodded in understanding.

"So we're up to dusk on the night of the sinking," he said, saying the words no one else in the room had the heart to say. "Six hours to go…"

"Incredible…" Bodine suddenly mumbled out loud, "There's Smith and he's standing there, and he's got the iceberg warning in his fucking hand! Excuse me," he added, remembering that Jack and Rose were still present. "His hand! And he's ordering more speed!" Brock merely shook his head as Jack and Rose smiled sadly to each other. If there was one piece of scientific evidence that could be said right now without offending the two survivors, it was this:

"Twenty-six years of experience is working against him," he replied, watching as Rose turned over the butterfly hair comb in her hands. "He figures anything big enough to sink the ship they'll see in time to turn. But the ship's too big, with too small a rudder. It doesn't corner worth a damn. Everything he knows is wrong…"

Jack and Rose weren't listening to them. They were still absorbed in their memories. The hardest part was still yet to come… They turned back to the monitor that displayed the remains of the fireplace in the Sitting Room in Rose's first-class suite, recalling the precious moment that had happened next…


	6. The Iceberg

**Alright, I don't know when the type of camera was invented when the picture printed out of it right after it was taken, so just pretend it existed back then.**

* * *

><p>"So what exactly are you planning to do back in your room, Rose?" Clara asked. "Pack away a few corset-free dresses and runaway with us?"<p>

Rose unlocked the door to the Sitting Room in the Millionaire Suite, laughing along with Jack as the three of them went in.

"No," she replied, "That wouldn't be proper, I assure you. This is the Sitting Room."

Jack and Clara were in shock. Just like how they had been when they first entered the first-class Grand Staircase the night before, they were in awe of the splendor around them. Unlike their cubicle in the lower decks, the Sitting Room was spacious and decorative in Empire-styled furniture. Everything down to the very last detail was done with artistic flair, to the oriental carvings around the door, to the light fixtures on the walls. Jack went over to the fireplace, and Clara wandered over to the doors leading off to the private Promenade decks and peeked outside, curious to see what was out there.

"Will this light do?" Rose suddenly asked, setting her shawl down on one of the coffee tables.

"What?" Jack asked, not understanding her.

"Well, don't artists need good light?" She clarified. He grinned.

"Zat is true," he said in a terrible French accent. "But, I am not used to working in such… 'Orreeble conditions…"

"You call _this_ horrible, Jack?" Clara asked as she came out from the Promenade Deck, looking shocked. "That bridge we slept under back in Southampton a few days ago was the definition of horrible. This place is nothing short of paradise!" Jack and Rose laughed. "Hey Jack, isn't that one of the paintings by that one artist you like?" She pointed to one of the paintings in Rose's collection on display. Jack's eyes lit up as he rushed over to the painting.

"Yeah, Monet!" Rose smiled and went over to him.

"You know his work, too?" she asked. He nodded, keeping his eyes fixed on the artwork.

"Of course. Look at his use of color, here," he pointed to one of the beautiful water lilies. "Isn't he great?" Rose nodded.

"I know," she murmured. "It's extraordinary…"

The suddenness of a lone, high sound, made Jack and Rose turn around. Clara was standing in awe beside a gorgeous, ebony grand piano. The fingers on her right hand were ghosting over the ivory keys since her other hand was holding her nutcracker tightly so she wouldn't accidently drop him from being in absolute wonder. She was gently pressing down on the keys every now and then, just listening to the sounds that flowed out of the majestic instrument.

"Oh, I suppose I forgot to tell you, Clara," Rose said, going to stand next to her. "We happen to have a piano in our suite."

"It's hard to believe…" Clara whispered. "I mean, I've never even seen a grand piano with my own eyes…"

Rose laughed along with Jack as he got to his feet. Then she went over to the Wardrobe Room and went inside. Jack and Clara followed her; curious as to where she was going. They saw her start to spin the dial lock for a safe inside. She looked over her shoulder at them, feeling their stares.

"Cal insists on carting this hideous thing everywhere," she told them. Jack raised an eyebrow.

"Should we expecting him anytime soon?" he asked. Rose chuckled as she took a small box out of the safe, shaking her head.

"Not as long as the cigars and brandy hold out," she said, opening the box and taking out the Heart of the Ocean. She showed them the necklace.

Jack's eyes bulged at the size of the stone.

Clara's eyes shined with shock for a moment, but then turned to admiring wonder as she looked at it, smiling at how beautiful it was.

"That's nice," Jack said as Rose gave it to him to examine. "What is it? A sapphire?" She shook her head.

"A diamond." She told him. "A very rare diamond. It's called the Heart of the Ocean." He shook his head, not believing his ears. He could hardly believe that he was a holding an actual diamond in his hand, and not just any diamond, probably the largest in existence, and most likely the rarest as well, considering the fact it wasn't a standard white one. It was wealth beyond his comprehension.

"It's so pretty…" Clara whispered, bringing her fingers near it, but not touching it. She was afraid that if she did, she would accidentally break the beautiful piece of jewelry. It was the most amazing thing she had ever seen in her entire life.

"You like it, don't you, Clara?" Rose asked, giggling at the little girl's admiration of the jewel. She nodded, keeping her eyes fixated on the necklace. Rose smiled at her love of the stone. Until now, she had despised the Heart of the Ocean. It had been just another of Cal's loveless gifts, but now she was happy to have it. Just seeing how Clara was so enraptured by it made her feel joy. She was poor, but Clara was happier just by looking at it than she had been when Cal had given it to her.

"Jack," Rose said, blushing slightly as to what she was about to ask. "I want you to draw me like one of your French girls. Wearing this."

"Alright," he replied, still staring at the fabulous stone. Her cheeks burned. She could tell he hadn't fully understood her, and she wanted to add, 'wearing _only_ this,' so he would catch her drift, but she couldn't. Clara was still with them. It wouldn't be right for her to hear, much less see, such things. She was starting to think of another way to emphasize what she meant, when Clara began laughing. She and Jack turned to her, puzzled.

"What's so funny, Clair?" Jack asked. She shot him an amused look.

"You are, Jack!" she replied. His expression became even more confused.

"Me?" She nodded, struggling to choke back her giggles.

"Yes, you." She replied. "Don't you even realize what Rose just asked you to do?" He hesitantly nodded, unsure where she was going with this.

"Of course I know. She asked me to do a drawing of her wearing this," he held up the necklace. She roared in laughter, no longer able to hold it back.

"Yes, she did," she forced out between laughs. "She wants you to draw her like one of the French girls you drew. You know, the ones wearing absolutely _nothing!"_

Rose's cheeks turned even redder as she looked down at her feet. She was beyond embarrassed.

Jack's face turned as red as a tomato as he stared back and forth between Clara, Rose, and the diamond. He wasn't even sure what to say. He settled with spluttering out,

"H-how do you k-know about those, Cl-Clara?"

She smirked. "I have gone through the portfolio, big brother," she replied. "It's not only your work in there, after all. Mine's in there, too. It wasn't hard to accidentally stumble across them while looking for one of my songs."

Jack swallowed. How could he have been so stupid? She was one hundred percent correct. It would have been easy for her to see them while going through it to find some of her own work…

"Um… Clara's right, Jack…" Rose said awkwardly as she gazed shyly up at him. "That… that _is_ how I wanted you to draw me…"

Jack stared at her, shocked. He couldn't believe his ears. First Clara was saying she knew about his less professional artwork, and now Rose was confirming the fact that she wanted him to draw her like _that?_

"Wh-what?" he choked out, his cheeks burning even redder. Rose's cheeks grew darker, too.

"I… I want you to draw me," she repeated. "Wearing _only_ this…"

Jack's heart hammered in his chest as he slowly nodded to her. "Al-alright…" he whispered. "Um… why don't you go to your… uh… room and…_ prepare_… Clara… why don't you go and play in there while I-"

"I'm not going anywhere!" Clara said firmly, putting down her nutcracker on one of the nearby couches to fold her arms. "I'm going to play the piano while you do your drawing."

"Clara…" Jack said slowly, not sure how to explain to her that her being present for the drawing wouldn't be appropriate. "This drawing is going to be more of an… _adult_ drawing… It's… it's not right for you to be in here while I'm doing it…"

Clara glared at him before turning around to pick up her nutcracker and their portfolio. "Ungrateful! Both of you!" She snapped to them. "Here I was working on your song and was planning to play the piano so you both could hear how much I've written down so far, but now you have to go and kick me out!"

"Song?" Rose said, puzzled. "What song?"

"I was inspired by you and big brother at the bow." She said. "I started writing a love song for you two!"

Jack and Rose exchanged looks of surprise. Then Rose said, "Perhaps if we move the piano to be facing the deck, it would be alright for Clara to stay."

Jack nodded. As long as Clara had her back to them while playing the piano, she wouldn't actually _see_ anything.

"Okay, Rose, Clara, I'm going to need both of you to help me to readjust its angle." The three of them circled around it, and began to hold various corners of the regal instrument. "On the count of three. One… two… three!" The three of them lifted their sides and slowly turned the instrument around. They set it down with a loud thump, breathing heavily. "Okay…" Jack said, his blush returning. "Rose, why don't you go and… get ready in your bedroom while I set up my art supplies out here?" Rose nodded shyly before going into her room, shutting the door behind her. Clara smiled to him.

"Good luck with your drawing, big brother!" She said before running over to the piano. She set her nutcracker and the portfolio down on top before starting to play a simple melody. It wasn't the song she was talking about; it was just something to play to pass the time.

Jack swallowed thickly. Then, he took off his black overcoat, and got to work. He went over to the nearest divan couch, and slowly dragged it to the center of the room, where the light shined the brightest. He propped the pillows nicely on the left side, so Rose would have something to lean up against during the portrait. Then he went over to the table in front of the divan, where he left his art supplies. He slowly laid them out like surgical tools. He selected one of his charcoal pencils along with his knife, and started to sharpen it. He prayed he wouldn't accidentally cut himself, since his hands were shaking so violently. How he was going to get through this was beyond him. He was about to draw Rose nude. He had seen other woman naked before when he did his drawings back in Paris, but it was much different now. He was going to draw Rose, and he could feel in his heart that tonight was going to be special for them both.

Rose was as nervous as he was. She was sitting at her vanity table, dressed only in an elaborate black kimono, her jade butterfly hair comb pinning back her hair, and the Heart of the Ocean around her neck. Her nerves were settling in. She had never allowed any man to see her unclothed. Especially not Cal, with how he had always referred to their future first-time as though she were a possession of his that had yet to be fully claimed. She knew now that she would never allow that arrogant man to see her as she was about to let Jack see her. He was not nearly as rich as Cal, but he had more than wealth to offer her. Above anything, Jack gave her love, and that was why she was about to do this. She not only wanted to mark how much she and Jack loved each other on paper, but also so Cal would know that she had no intention of ever seeing him again.

With a trembling hand, she slowly removed the ornamental hair comb. She shook her head, sending her freed locks flying out behind her in a shimmering wave of red. She slowly arose from her dressing table, and crossed the room. She hesitated only for a moment before wrapping the robe even tighter around her before opening the door.

Jack looked up from his work as she came in. Rose swung the end of the sash in a propeller motion. Jack only smiled, keeping his eyes locked with hers.

"The last thing I need," she said, crossing the room to stand next to Clara. "Is another picture of me looking like a porcelain doll, or listen to another frivolous waltz. As a paying customer…" she paused to hand Clara a dime, who took it graciously, setting it down on top of the piano. Then she went back over to Jack, and tossed him a second dime. He barely even glanced at it. "I expect to get what I want." She took a deep breath, and parted the kimono, exposing her naked body in front of a man for the very first time.

Jack was stunned. He couldn't even breathe. She was just so beautiful. He was looking upon an actual goddess. His eyes traveled from her face, down her naked body. He could hardly believe this woman, no, this angel, had decided to bless him with the honor of loving him. He wasn't even nearly worthy enough to gaze at her…

A small giggle from the back corner of the room interrupted their thoughts. They turned around. Clara was sitting on the piano bench, watching them as she kept one hand over her mouth to suppress her giggles. Jack and Rose blushed. They hadn't even realized she had stopped playing.

"G-go back to playing the piano, sis," Jack said, trying to hide his red cheeks.

"Oh, I'll start playing, big brother," she said, still giggling, "when _you_ actually start drawing…"

His cheeks burned. He turned back to Rose, this time viewing her with the artist inside him.

"Over on the bed- the couch." He told her, mentally kicking himself for stating his perverse thoughts. Rose hardly noticed. She nervously walked over to the couch and sat down, unsure what to do next. "Go ahead," he urged her. "Lie down." She did as he said, keeping her eyes focused on his nervous smile. She tried to position herself properly, remembering how the woman in the other drawings had posed. She attempted to look seductive.

"Tell me when it looks right."

"No, put your arm back the way it was." He told her, blushing even harder at her attempt to be alluring while at the same time trying to focus on her face as she readjusted herself. He knew he wouldn't be able to concentrate if she were to be in a seductive pose. "And put that other arm, your hand up, right by your face. Now, head down… eyes to me, keep them on me… and try to stay still." He took a deep breath, and was about to draw, when the most enchanting melody reached his ears. He and Rose turned. Clara was finally playing the piano. It was beautiful. It was a slow, moving piece that touched their hearts. It may have not have been completely finished yet, but it was still incredible. The melody truly describe_ them,_ of their love, not anyone else's. It was hard to believe that a mere child had created this song, but it was true. After several measures of playing, she paused, took a pencil out from behind her ear, and erased away at something on the page before scribbling something in its place. She didn't even notice that Jack and Rose were watching her she was so focused. They turned to look at each other and chuckled.

"Alright, now, stay still, Rose," Jack said, picking up his charcoal once again. Rose slightly nodded before becoming as still as a statue once more. And again, Jack took a deep, needed breath, before starting to draw. At first, he made small, precise strokes as he glanced up at her beautiful, naked body, too nervous to do anything else. After a few minutes however, he slowly relaxed, making much more long, free strokes with his charcoal. It may be different because Rose wasn't just another woman he was drawing just for fun, but it was still art. She had asked him to do this because she trusted him. Not only for himself, but also because of his talent. He wouldn't let her down.

Rose, however, could barely tell that he was nervous. She was too nervous herself to realize it. Her heart was beating rapidly, sending blood pounding through her skull. She knew she was blushing. She could feel the heat in her cheeks. She was surprised her entire body wasn't flushed a light pink, unlike Jack. He seemed so calm, so serious, as he glanced at her every few seconds, sketching away in his portfolio. It was hard for Rose to tell what he was thinking, for she could only see his eyes and part of his cheeks over the top of his portfolio. She could feel his eyes traveling across the features of her face, and a small smile stretched across her lips.

"So serious," she teased. He smiled shyly to her before returning to his work. His eyes skimmed over her bare body, and she felt goose bumps rise up across her entire being. Just the effect from a single glance was immense. The drawing started to take shape. Her face and hair were enraptured beautifully upon the paper, and the diamond was shining in charcoal glory. The next part to sketch would be her breasts, because the diamond was resting upon one of them. Jack's cheeks reddened slightly as he glanced up at them once more before continuing to sketch, smudging the charcoal on the paper. Rose noticed and giggled.

"I believe you are blushing, Mr. Big Artiste," she said. "I can't imagine Monsieur Monet blushing."

He paused, feeling himself sweat heavily despite his lightweight shirt. He couldn't help but laugh himself. "He does landscapes." He said, trying to defend himself. Rose only smiled. His cheeks grew even darker. "J-just relax your face…"

"Sorry…" she said, remembering she had to stay still.

"No laughing."

She slowly relaxed her face back into a neutral look, although her heart was still pounding, and she could feel butterflies fluttering about in her stomach. She found it impossible to look anywhere aside from Jack's handsome face. She looked deeply into his caring, ocean blue eyes; they were eyes that could stare right into her very soul.

Despite his nervousness, Jack drew with pure, confident strokes, and from them was slowly emerging one of the best things he had ever drawn. She was in a relaxed, languid pose, with her hands beautifully cupped around her head, and her eyes… Although it was impossible for him to capture their natural, beautiful green with his charcoal pencil, he still made them shine radiantly with energy.

The entire time, Clara didn't say a single word. She just continued to play their song. She would pause now and then to write down more music and then test out how the notes sounded in real life, or to erase something and then scrawl in replacement notes. She didn't want to interrupt them, so she didn't bother to test out how the vocal parts sounded. She just scribbled them in so she could edit them later. It didn't matter to Jack and Rose that the song wasn't perfect. Just her playing it at all made the moment even more special. They both knew, deep down in their hearts, that this would be a moment neither one of them would ever forget…

* * *

><p>"My heart was pounding the whole time," Rose said, smiling at the memory. "It was the most erotic moment of my life…"<p>

The semicircle of listeners were staring at her and Jack in mesmerized, frozen silence. No one dared to say a single word. Not even Lizzie. They were finally captured with the story itself, not the diamond. Lovett hadn't even asked about the diamond, he was so intrigued. Rose, however, was not looking at any of them. Her attention was on Jack. He was raising an eyebrow at her.

"The _most_ erotic, huh?" he asked, teasing her. She laughed.

"Well, up until then, at least," she replied, resting her head on his shoulder. He laughed, too.

"If you think you were nervous, think about me for a second," he replied, gently kissing her forehead. "To this day, I don't know how I managed to get through that without passing out from how beautiful you were back then…" Rose chuckled, a faint blush painting her ancient face.

"So what happened next?" Lewis asked, eager to hear more. At this, Jack and Rose smirked.

"You mean did we kick Clara out so we could do _it?"_ Rose asked, amused. The entire room laughed, including Jack and Rose. Once the room calmed down, Jack shook his head.

"Sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Bodine," he replied with a smile, "I was quite professional, especially when she happened sitting no more then a few feet away from us…"

* * *

><p>"And… done!" Jack said, finally finishing the drawing. Clara stopped playing the piano abruptly, and hopped off the small bench. She grabbed the halfway finished song and her nutcracker and slipped the dime in her pocket. She was about to run over to see the piece of artwork when Rose raised her hand at her.<p>

"Wait, Clara, turn around for a moment." She told her. Clara was puzzled.

"Why?" she asked. "I'm going to see what you look like anyway in the drawing." Both Jack and Rose turned lovely shades of bright red.

"I-it's just not appropriate!" She stuttered.

"If it's not appropriate, why did you let big brother draw you?" Clara asked, confused. Jack and Rose exchanged nervous looks, unsure what to say.

"You'll… you'll learn why when you're older…" Rose said, trying to hide her blush. "Now, please turn around."

"Oh, very well," she grumbled, doing as she asked. She was about to ask Jack to do the same, when she realized he had already done so. She smiled thoughtfully. He was so much more of a gentleman then any of the men she had ever met in her society circle. She got up, and quickly slipped the robe back on.

"Alright, you can look now," she said once she was decent. Clara didn't have to be told twice. She whirled around and ran over to Jack to see the drawing. Rose followed her. They gasped when they saw it. It was so perfect. Rose laid her head on his shoulder in appreciation.

"Date it, Jack," she whispered. "I want to always remember this night…"

He smiled to her as he scrawled '_**April 14**__**th**__**, 1912, JD**_' in the lower right corner. He gently blew off the excess charcoal before emptying out the rest of the things in the portfolio and placing the drawing inside. He gave it to Rose, who accepted it graciously.

"Thank you," she whispered before kissing him gently on the lips.

"Do you both think I've done a good job so far with my song for you guys?" Clara asked.

"It's great, Clair," Jack said.

"Yes, it sounds wonderful so far," Rose said, patting her cheek. Clara smiled.

"I can't wait until I finish it!"

"Hey, why don't you put the date on here too, sis." Jack suggested.

"Oh, good idea, Jack!" She took her pencil back out and scribbled in the lower right hand corner of both pages, '_**Edited on April 14**__**th**__**, 1912, C.D.**_' then she gave them to Rose.

"Here, take them." She told her.

"What?" Rose said, confused. "Why? You haven't finished it, yet."

"I can make a copy of what I've done so far later. You can keep the rough draft for now with the drawing."

"Alright, thank you." She took the sheets of music and read the upper words on the first page. She blushed when she read the dedication.

"What's wrong?" Jack asked. She showed him what Clara had written in the dedication. He blushed, too, as she went over to a small desk nearby, and took out a blank sheet of stationary paper and a pen out of one of its drawers, and then went back into the Wardrobe Room. She started to write a note. Jack and Clara were puzzled.

"What are you doing?" Jack asked. Rose only smiled and gave Clara the necklace, as well as the box it was in, and the art portfolio with the drawing.

"Will you put these back in the safe for me?" she asked her. Clara dreamily nodded, staring at the stone in wonder.

"Al-alright," she whispered, taking the box and the portfolio before delicately picking up the necklace. Jack and Rose watched thoughtfully as she gazed at the treasured necklace with pure innocence. It was obvious to them both that she loved the Heart of the Ocean, even if she didn't say it out loud. She sighed, and was about to put it back in the box, when Rose spoke again.

"On second thought Clara, don't bother." Clara turned to her, confused.

"What? Why?" she asked. "Do you want to keep wearing it?" Rose shook her head.

"No. I just thought it might be nice if _you_ wore it for a little while," she said with a smile. Clara's eyes bulged.

"Wh-what?" she stuttered, not believing her ears. "You want me to try it on?" She nodded.

"Yes, come with me." She took Clara by the hand and led her and Jack into her bedroom, stopping in front of her vanity mirror. "Could you hold your hair up?" Clara did as she asked and held up her blonde hair. Rose smiled as she fastened the necklace around Clara's tiny neck. Clara just stared at her reflection in awe. It looked so perfect on her.

"Look at that," Jack said with a smile. "It brings out the blue of your eyes, Clair." She nodded, barely hearing him as she admired her reflection. Rose smiled. She had never had a younger sister of her own. She never was given the opportunity to watch someone younger than her play dress up with her esteem jewelry. It was a wonderful feeling. She felt she needed to ask the following question.

"Would you like to keep it?" Clara whirled around to face Rose, just as shocked as Jack. Neither of them could believe what she had just said.

"Wh-what?" Clara asked, stupefied. Rose smiled.

"Would you like to keep it?" she repeated.

"I…I…" Clara stared back and forth between the reflection in the mirror of the Heart of the Ocean, and Rose's reflection. "Y-you're being too generous! I-I couldn't possibly ask-"

"But you're not asking, Clara," Rose reminded her. "I'm _giving _it to you. I _want_ you to have it."

"Is… is really okay?" she asked hesitantly. Rose nodded. "Well… thank you! Thank you very much! It's so beautiful!" She hugged Rose tightly. Rose giggled as she hugged her back. Jack could only smile.

"That's rather nice of you, Rose," he commented.

"Well, I'm an only child," she explained. "I never got the opportunity to pass on my own possessions to anyone else, so I guess I just wish to start now with you, Clara."

"Thank you, Rose!" Clara squealed, admiring her reflection in the mirror once again. "Thank you so much!" Rose smiled before turning to Jack, taking the discarded box that it came in and the portfolio.

"Would you put these back in the safe for me?" she asked, handing them to him while watching Clara. "I'm going to get dressed again."

"Sure," he replied. He was about to go into the Wardrobe Room when Clara stopped him.

"Can I see the drawing one more time?" she asked. He nodded.

"Go ahead." He gave her the portfolio. She turned around and went back over to the table in the Sitting Room where she had left the sheet music. She pretended to be looking at the drawing as she slipped the two sheets of the unfinished song. It pained her somewhat, knowing she wouldn't be able to work on it once Jack locked it inside the safe, but she was okay. She could rewrite what she had done so far later. She just wished she could see the look on Cal's face when he read the dedication when he discovered the portfolio later on. She shut the portfolio, and gave it back to Jack. He went back into the Wardrobe Room where the safe was still unlocked. He paused, looking at all the money inside with a shocked face for a second, but then shut it with a loud clang.

* * *

><p>Caledon Hockley was furious. He was in the first-class Smoking Room, enjoying a cigar along with a large brandy with some other wealthy gentlemen in front of the magnificent fireplace.<p>

"We're going to hell, I tell you!" Colonel Gracie exclaimed, setting down his glass of brandy. "I wager fifty bucks we'll make it into New York Tuesday night!"

"My money's on Wednesday morning, eight o'clock," said Ismay. Cal was hardly paying attention to their conversation. The only thing on his mind was Rose. After Rose had mysteriously disappeared from afternoon tea with her mother several hours prior, he had sent Lovejoy to go and find her. Knowing that gutter rat and mouse from steerage, they probably convinced her to go with them. That thought alone made him even angrier. He was under the impression he had made it quite clear to Rose that morning that _he_ would decide what was appropriate for her social image! She was going to be his wife! If he found out that she was displaying the same sort of unrefined behavior she had shone at that third-class party last night… oh, she would dearly pay…

At that moment, Lovejoy entered from the revolving doors that led back to the Palm Court restaurant. He motioned for him to come over. Cal barely managed to keep a tactful tone as he excused himself from the other men. He knew whatever Lovejoy was about to say wouldn't be good news. He followed his manservant to an empty corner.

"Well?" he asked him, impatient. "Where is she?" Lovejoy sighed.

"None of the stewards have seen her." Cal was about ready to tear his hair out. If she wasn't with her mother or those steerage swine, where the hell was she?

"This is absurd!" He said in a low, forceful tone, letting only a fraction of his rage be known. "It's a ship, there's only so many places she could be! Lovejoy, find her!"

Lovejoy merely nodded before exiting the room. Once out of Cal's sight, he let out an exasperated sigh. Find her? How? He had personally gone to every level of the ship, asking every steward he saw if they had seen a woman of Rose's description. They had all denied seeing her. Hockley was right. She had to be somewhere.

He thought long and hard. If none of the stewards had seen her, then that meant she had to be somewhere where they _couldn't_ see her. That ruled out any place on the ship where any of the passengers were, and he highly doubted she would have gone down to the boiler or engine rooms. Even if she had gotten lost, the workmen would have kicked her out immediately. Where else could she be…?

Then the answer hit him. The cabin! If she were in the suite, it would make sense that the stewards hadn't seen her, because they couldn't go in unless she called for them.

He set off down the corridors to the suite.

* * *

><p>In the wheelhouse, Captain Smith stood before the windows, looking out at the dark, murky sea. Second-Officer Lightoller walked over to him to stare outside at well.<p>

"Clear," Captain Smith murmured, indicating the waters.

"Yes," Lightoller answered. "I don't think I've ever seen such a flat calm." Smith nodded with a chuckle.

"Like a mill pond," he joked. "Not a breath of wind…"

The waters were completely still. There were no waves, and the wind was dead. The ship was nearly perfectly reflected like a mirror in the smooth, glassy waters, the ocean was so calm.

"It will make the icebergs harder to see." Lightoller commented worriedly. "With no breaking water at the base…"

Captain Smith merely grunted as he sipped his lemon tea. Lightoller may be worried, but he wasn't. While he had never actually seen the water as calm as it was before, he was sure it wouldn't be a problem.

"Well, I'm off." Smith declared, deciding to go to bed. "Maintain speed and heading, Mr. Lightoller."

"Yes, sir." He replied.

* * *

><p>Back in the Millionaire Suite, Jack was leaning out one of the windows on the Promenade Deck, staring out at the black ocean. He may not be captain of a ship, but he was somewhat worried. In the many times he had been on boats, whether for travel or to scrape some money together, he had never seen the ocean as calm as it was. No wind was one thing, but the waves were something else entirely. He and Clara had overheard the Captain say earlier that there were icebergs nearby. Clara had been concerned, but he hadn't been worried, not then, at least. Now, he was wondering if he should be worried…<p>

Jack shivered and wrapped the jacket around him. It was much too cold for him to stay outside. Folding his arms across his chest to stay warm, he went back into the Sitting Room.

Clara, still wearing the Heart of the Ocean, was sitting on one of the regal chairs, playing with her nutcracker. She was cold, too, and was wearing the borrowed green coat despite being inside. Rose, hearing Jack come in, came out of her room, now wearing a lovely, short-sleeved light purple dress with a pink sash tied around her waist. It was one of the few dresses she owned that she didn't need a corset for. She also hadn't pinned back her hair, but decided to leave it down. It cascaded down her shoulders in a waterfall of curly red.

"It's getting cold," Jack said to Clara. She nodded in return as he noticed Rose. "You look nice…" he whispered, blushing. Rose smiled, and was about to reply when a knock at the door made the three of them jump.

"Ms. Rose?" Lovejoy's voice called out from the other side of the door. Hearing the key turn in the lock, Rose grabbed Jack and Clara's hands and dragged them towards her room, where there was another door that led out of the cabin.

"Jack, our work!" Clara whispered, hugging her nutcracker tightly. Jack froze, remembering their discarded drawings and music on the tables in the Sitting Room. He shook his head, and urged his sister to hurry. There was nothing they could do about them, now.

Just as Rose opened the door to the corridor from her bedroom, Lovejoy opened the door that connected to the Sitting Room. His eyes scanned the room, searching for the young lady. Rose tried to quietly shut the door behind them, but the click alerted Lovejoy to their whereabouts. Jack, Rose, and Clara, not realizing that Lovejoy had heard them, walked down the corridor. A moment later, the door leading back to the suite opened, and Lovejoy poked his head out. He spied the three of them.

"Come on!" Rose squealed, seeing Lovejoy. She tightened her grip on Jack and Clara's hands and started to run. Jack and Clara laughed as they ran with her, Lovejoy hot on their heels.

They darted straight to the elevator shafts. One was currently emptying, and was about to leave.

"Wait!" Rose shouted, ignoring the stares from the other first-class passengers.

"Wait, wait!" Jack cried, feeling exhilarated.

"Don't go! Wait!" Clara screamed, clutching her nutcracker tightly. The elevator operator, too stunned by their behavior to do anything else, just stared as they ran inside. Jack slammed the iron gate shut behind them.

"Go!" Rose said, realizing the operator wasn't moving.

"Take us down, quick!" Clara added, seeing Lovejoy turn the corner. The operator sprang back to life, scrambling to comply with these insane people.

"Go! Go!" Jack shouted.

"Quickly!"

"Down! Down! Down!"

Lovejoy only reached the elevator when they were about a quarter of the way down. He slammed his hands into the gate in aggravation.

Jack scooped up Clara right as Rose gave Lovejoy a rude gesture with her hand. The two of them burst out laughing when Clara, not knowing what it meant, copied her with her free hand as she mockingly stuck out her tongue at him. The operator stared at them in shock.

"Bye!" Rose said, waving to Lovejoy as they disappeared from view.

Lovejoy shoved people out of his way as he bolted down the nearest staircase. He had seen what the kid had on around her neck. He had to reach them now more than ever. If anything happened to that necklace, his employer would have his head.

The elevator finally came to a stop on E-deck, and Jack, Rose, and Clara scrambled out from it, laughing whole-heartedly. In their rush, Jack ran right into a nearby steward.

"Sorry!" He called out to the man as they kept running. They spied a staircase leading down to the F-decks, and flew down them right as Lovejoy came down the Grand Staircase.

He went straight to the elevators, only to become puzzled when he saw the operator was going back up. He then spied the stairs that led down to F-deck and hurriedly went down them. He started to look everywhere. The three of them just laughed as they hid in behind a set of swinging doors in the next corridor.

"Pretty tough for a valet, this fella," Jack panted out between laughs. "He seems more like a cop."

"I think he was." Rose replied, hanging on to the wall to catch her breath. "Cal's father hired him to keep his little boy out of trouble. To make sure he got back to the hotel with his wallet after his crawl through the less reputable parts of town." Jack and Clara saw the disgust on her face. Clara, not knowing or understanding what he had been doing in the bad parts of the cities, just laughed and said,

"Kind of like what the three of us are doing right now, huh?" Jack and Rose laughed.

Just then, Lovejoy heard them. He looked over to the doors and saw Jack's face through the small window in it. Jack saw him, too.

"Oh, shit!" he cried.

"Go!" Rose shouted, running down the hallway. Jack and Clara followed her, laughing the whole time. Jack spied a door marked Crew Only.

"No, over here!" he screamed, flinging the door open as he went in. Rose and Clara ran in after him, not even caring that they could get into serious trouble for this. Jack slammed the door shut behind them, locking it with the deadbolt attached. The room they had entered was a roaring fan room, with a ladder leading down to where the boilers were. Steam was floating upwards and the noise was deafening. They could barely hear Lovejoy bang against the door in frustration since they had to keep their hands over their ears.

"Now what?" Rose shouted to Jack.

"What?" He shouted back.

"She said: 'Now what?'" Clara screamed, struggling to keep her nutcracker under her arm as she kept her hands over her ears. Jack smirked and nodded his head toward the ladder. They grinned and nodded, catching his drift. He scrambled down the ladder first. Rose climbed down with no problems, but he had to help Clara get down since she was carrying her nutcracker. Once they were all down, they looked around in amazement. The boiler room was like a vision of hell, with the blazing hot fires roaring in the enormous furnaces, and the clouds of smoke hovering in the air. Through the smoke they could just barely make out black, sooty figures, stoking the fires.

"Need more coal for number one, mate," one worker said in a thick Irish accent as he turned around. He saw Jack, Rose, and Clara standing at the ladder. "Hold up, what you three doing down here?" he demanded. "You shouldn't be down here. It could be dangerous!" Jack merely scooped up Clara and took off, Rose running along behind him down the length of the boiler room. The three of them just continued to laugh as they dodged the startled stokers and trimmers with their wheelbarrows filled with coal through the smoky haze.

"Carry on!" Jack called out to them over the din. "Don't mind us!" Clara laughed.

"Yes, you're doing a great job!" She shouted out. "Keep up the good work!"

They ran through a watertight door in boiler room six. Jack glanced over at Rose. Even though she was sweating profusely from the searing heat, she was beyond beautiful. He wanted to express his love to her now more than ever. Jack let Clara slide down off his back and pulled Rose fiercely through the hot alley between boilers. They were still in the faint glow of the furnaces, but out of sight of the working crew and Clara because of all of the billowing clouds of smoke. He hungrily drank in the features of her gorgeous face as his arms snaked around her. Rose's knees weakened as she wound her own arms around his neck. She couldn't believe that God had sent Jack to her. He was her living guardian angel.

Jack felt a powerful urge to be even closer to his lovely Rose. He pulled her body so close to him, their chests were against one another, but it didn't even matter. Rose stared deep into his crystal blue eyes. They were oceans in of themselves, and she felt herself growing lost in them…

Neither of them even knew who started it, but the next moment later, they were kissing each other with feverish passion. Their sweat intermingled as their tongues playfully explored the caverns of each other's mouths, tasting each other's sweat. Despite the burning heat surrounding them, they both suddenly felt chilled, and they pressed even closer to each other. A raging fire pooled inside both of them. A spark had erupted. Rose broke away, gasping for breath, and Jack trailed light kisses down her jawline. She moaned, loving the feeling. She was about to keep kissing him, when Clara interrupted.

"Jack, Rose!" she called out, running towards them from somewhere in the smoky haze. "Look what I-" She cut herself off, seeing their intimate embrace. "Oh… I'm sorry," she mumbled out, blushing as she hugged her nutcracker. She may be only eight years old, but even she understood that they had wanted some privacy right then. Jack and Rose turned bright red as they broke away.

"Oh, Clara!" Rose said awkwardly.

"Wh-what is it, Clair?" Jack said, scratching the back of his head, clearly embarrassed. Clara glanced sheepishly at them.

"I'm sorry!" she squeaked. "I… I just wanted to show you guys the car I found…"

"Car?" Jack said, embarrassment fading away as curiosity spiked in him. Rose was interested, too. "What car?"

"Follow me!" She led them through a door neither of them had seen earlier. It led into the cargo hold. It was arctic cold compared to the fiery heat of the boilers. The three of them hugged themselves to stay warm. Clara led the way around several stacks of large, wooden crates, rows of mail, and groupings of suitcases before finally coming to a halt.

"Over there!" she said, pointing around a corner of crates tied together with thick ropes. Jack and Rose peered around.

"Well, look what we have here," Jack murmured to himself, his eyes going wide as the three of them went closer. In the middle of all the cargo and luggage, was a brand new, Renault touring car. It was almost like a royal coach from a fairy tale, with how the golden brass trimmed headlamps nicely set off its rich burgundy coloring. Rose coughed suddenly as she nodded to the door that led to the back seat. Jack smiled as he opened the door, and held out his hand to help her into plushy-upholstered back seats, bowing to her as though she was a royal princess. There were cut crystal vases in each of the corners on the walls, containing single red roses.

"Thank you," she replied curtly, playing along as she went inside. Then Jack turned to Clara, offering her his hand to help her in as well. She raised her hand for a moment, but then shook her head, putting her hand back around her nutcracker. Jack and Rose were puzzled.

"What's wrong?" Jack asked. Clara blushed. She felt guilty for interrupting them before, and wanted them to have some time to themselves. She felt she would just be in the way if she went in with them.

"N-nothing!" she squeaked as she shuffled her feet. "I… I already explored it, so… so I'm just going to look around here a little more…" she scampered away before either of them could convince her otherwise.

Jack stared quizzically in the direction his sister had gone for a moment before shaking his head, and climbing into the driver's seat, enjoying the feeling of the leather and wood underneath him. Rose lowered the window that separated them as Jack honked the horn. She laughed.

"Where to, miss?" he asked her in a stuffy, sophisticated English accent, thinking they were still roleplaying. Rose merely smiled longingly to him as she whispered in his ear,

"To the stars…"

Jack turned to her, confused. Rose smiled mischievously as she tugged him out of the drivers seat, and through the window into the backseat of the Renault. He laughed, landing with a thump beside her. For a few moments, they just sat there in each other's arms, listening to their deep breathing in the quiet darkness. Jack smiled, gazing deeply into Rose's beautiful, emerald green eyes. She smiled back. Right then, they forgot everything except each other. The fact that Cal and Lovejoy were looking for them; the fact that the men in the boiler room could walk in at any moment to force them to leave; the fact that Clara was nearby. At that moment, the only people that existed were the two of them. It was the moment truth.

"You nervous?" Jack whispered, interlocking her fingers with his own. She gently shook her head, keeping her eyes fixed with his.

"No," she whispered back. If she was certain of anything, it was that she was in no way nervous. She loved Jack. She _trusted_ Jack. Jack was not Cal. If this were Cal, she wouldn't be nervous, she would be _terrified. _The way he always acted as though she were just another possession had always scared her. The thought of what would happen on their wedding night had repulsed her, even. But this was her Jack. He was a pure gentleman. He would make this wonderful, magical, even. She _wanted_ this. She wanted this with every fiber of her being.

Rose lowered her head, and kissed each of his perfect, artistic fingers. She wanted him to know that she loved every single part of him. Jack was stunned. This symbolized everything. Despite many offers from the French girls he had drawn in the past, he had never touched any of them. He had never done this before, and was as clueless as she was as to what to do. Yes, he was deeply and truly in love with her, and yes, he wanted this as badly as she did, but he was as nervous as hell. The fact that she, a first-class red headed beauty, was sitting here right now wanting him, a dirty blonde penniless bohemian, was nerve-racking. She wanted to share something so precious, something that could be given to another human being only _once_, with him. He wanted, no, _needed_ to make sure that Rose was one hundred percent positive about this. They had only known each other for two days. They had only realized they were in love with each a few hours ago. He would rather wait, knowing that there would be another chance to do this, than force himself upon her and cause her to regret this. She was only seventeen, and he was only eighteen. Jack knew, deep down, that he wanted Rose to be his first, and only, but he was willing to wait. If they were to ever make love, he wanted to make sure that their first time would be special, something that neither of them would ever forget.

Rose looked up at him, and whispered as she stared deeply into his ocean blue eyes,

"Put your hands on me, Jack…" It was almost an order than a request. She saw his eyes widen as he bit his lip in apprehension. She felt she had to make herself even more clear just how much she wanted him. Rose gently took his hand, and placed it upon her breast. That was all it took. Jack felt the passion rise from deep inside him, and he couldn't hold back any longer. He attacked her mouth in a savagely bruising kiss that expressed all his love. Rose kissed him back, hungrily parting her lips so his tongue could explore her mouth as he gently pushed her down on the bottom of the plush seat. She moaned in absolute pleasure. The flame that had burned inside both of them back in the boiler room returned. They knew they had to be quick. Clara was somewhere on the outside of the Renault, and by now, the stokers in the boiler room had mostly likely called for stewards to find them, but Jack and Rose were determined to do this. They knew, deep down in their hearts, that what was about to happen next would never be forgotten…

* * *

><p>The sound of electrical sparks echoed throughout the cramped little room. Several decks above, in the Wireless Operating Room on the bridge, Senior Wireless Operator Jack Phillips was rapidly tapping out a reply message on the Marconi instrument that the operator on the freighter ship the <em>Californian<em> had sent out about incoming icebergs while his assistant, the Junior Operator by the name of Harold Bride, read the messages from the outgoing stack the two of them had yet to send out to the world.

"Look at this one!" said Bride suddenly. "He wants his private train to meet him! La di da…" He was bored. He had been reading messages as pointless as these all throughout the voyage. He had been cooped up in this narrow room with his coworker nonstop. He was desperate for something exciting to happen. He slammed the message down. "We'll be up all bloody night on this lot," he mumbled. Phillips nodded. He, too, was agitated by all this pointless work.

"_You'll_ be up all night on that lot," he corrected. He was exhausted. There was no way in hell Phillips intended to sacrifice another night without sleep doing this job.

"Oh yeah?" asked Bride, raising an eyebrow just as an officer came in, giving him yet another message to transmit. Bride wanted scream.

"You're joking!" he settled on saying in an exasperated tone. The officer shook his head and left.

"Bloody hell!" Phillips suddenly cried, making Bride jump. "Christ…" he mumbled, taking off the headphones, "It's that idiot on the _Californian!"_ he said, realizing that Bride was staring at him. Bride huffed. Like Phillips, the nearby ships' operator sending out message after message about the incoming ice was annoying him. They had been receiving the warning all day, and they were behind in their transmissions because of them. He decided he had enough.

"Tell him to sod off!" Bride declared. Phillips smirked.

"Oh, I'll do more than that…" he replied, placing the headphones back on. He started to tap out the message. "Keep out!" He said, relaying the message out loud as he sent it. "Shut up! _I'm _working Cape Race!"

* * *

><p>"Arrogant bastard!" Shouted Cyril Evans as he took off his headphones, the wireless operator of the <em>Californian.<em> He turned to face Third-Officer Groves in order to tell him what the _Titanic_ operator had replied. "I try and warn him about the ice, and he tells me to shut up… And listen to that spark!" He paused so Groves could hear it. "He must be right on top of us…" The sound of beeping startled them.

"What's he sending now?" Groves asked.

"Poker… business… good." They stared at each other. Neither of them could believe what idiots the Morse code operators on the _Titanic_ were. Evans sighed in a defeated manner as he removed the headphones. "Well, that's it for me." He said, shutting the machine off. "I'm shutting down." He saw no point in staying up with the blasted machine. He was tired of being ridiculed by the operators on the Ship of Dreams. After all, what _could_ possibly happen to the ship that would require them to start sending out distress signals? Nothing, that's what. It was, after all, called an unsinkable ship for a reason…

"Good night," Groves replied, leaving the Wireless Control Room. He paused to stare out at the ocean for a moment. There were so many icebergs out there right now. Evans had been right. _Titanic _couldn't be more than a few short miles away from them. Since they were choosing to ignore their warning about the incoming ice, Groves could only pray that nothing would happen to the mighty steamer.

* * *

><p>Back on the <em>Titanic,<em> the lookouts in the crow's nest, Fleet and Lee, were shivering violently. Their breath was puffing out in front of them, and they were swinging their arms around, desperately trying to warm them.

"God, it's bloody cold!" said Lee, breathing on his gloved hands in attempt to warm them.

"You know, I can smell ice, you know," Fleet said between his chattering teeth to Lee. "When it's near…" Lee scoffed.

"Bullocks…" he replied. Fleet just grinned.

"Well, I can, alright?" he shot back, attempting to lighten the mood. Although neither of the men had said so out loud, Fleet and Lee were, in reality, extremely nervous. It was dark out, and the icebergs were already hard to see, but without their binoculars, they were downright impossible to spot. They had never been given their binoculars when they had boarded. Down below on the bridge, First-Officer Murdoch was doing his best to try and be of some assistance to them.

"Did you ever find those binoculars for the lookout?" he asked Lightoller. He shook his head.

"Haven't seen them since Southampton," Lightoller replied. Murdoch sighed. "Well, I'll be on my rounds. Cheerio."

* * *

><p>The rearview window of the Renault was completely steamed up, and Rose slammed her hand against it as her orgasm erupted. It left behind a handprint in the veil of condensation. In the inside of the car, Jack and Rose were gasping for breath. Jack's coat was acting as a blanket over them, covering their naked, sticky bodies. They huddled beneath it, still entwined, though also mostly clothed. With flushed faces, Jack and Rose stared at each other in wonder. Neither of them could believe what had just happened. There, in the backseat of a Renault touring car, in the cargo hold of the grandest ship of all time, Jack and Rose had made love. Rose gently stroked his face. She had to make sure he was real, that this had really happened.<p>

"You're trembling," she whispered, brushing a strand of hair out of his eyes. Jack smiled tiredly to her.

"Don't worry," he whispered back. "I'll be alright…" They kissed gently before Jack laid his cheek against her chest. "I can feel your heart beating," he whispered. Rose smiled, and hugged his head even closer against her chest, holding onto him for dear life.

"It belongs to you, Jack," she whispered. He raised his head up to gaze at her in bewilderment. "Forever…" Jack smiled lovingly to her. They kissed again before he laid his head back down. Rose sighed in contentment as she stroked his sweaty hair, enjoying the afterglow of their wonderful lovemaking. She had never felt so at peace in her entire life, nor could she imagine a moment more perfect than this. She was in the arms of Jack. The boy, no, the man she had fallen in love with. He was her first, and forever would be her one and only, love. She had just lost her virginity to Jack. She knew now that she could never be with any other man aside from Jack. She would rather die than be in another man's arms. This felt so right… Lying here with Jack felt right… It no longer mattered to her what her mother said, or what Cal said, or what anyone said. The only thing that mattered to Rose right now was her Jack. She had been right. Her heart did belong to Jack, and she could just stay like this forever, letting him listen to how fast her heart was beating. She wanted him to keep listening. She wanted him to know that the heart that had once pumped blood into her body, was now pumping out her love for him…

A sharp tap at the back window of the car awakened them from their quiet moment.

"Jack, Rose!" Clara hissed. "I hear someone coming!"

"Shit!" Jack swore, bolting upright as he pulled up his trousers, buttoning them. "Alright, we'll be right out, Clair!" Rose followed suit, pulling up her dress. He buttoned it for her as she stuffed her stocking in the pocket of his coat. They quietly stumbled out of the car. Clara, hiding behind a stack of mail, motioned them to hurry. They ducked behind it just as the door to the cargo room opened. Two stewards entered with flashlights.

"They went down there," they heard a stoker say.

"Alright," said one of the stewards. They walked inside, searching for any sign of the people the stokers had described. One of them spied the handprint on the rear window. He grinned at the clue, and snapped his fingers to get the other's attention. The second steward grinned wolfishly, and quietly snuck over to the passenger door. He flung it open.

"Gotcha!" he shouted. His and the other steward's smirks swiftly turned to looks of puzzlement as they stared inside the empty car.

* * *

><p>"Anything aside from the necklace missing?" Lovejoy asked as Cal opened the safe. He was about to answer, when something inside the safe caught his eye. Something he had never seen before. A brown, leather-bound portfolio was tucked away neatly in the side of the safe, with a small paper sticking out of it. He glanced over his shoulder at Lovejoy before taking it out and opening it, curious as to what was inside. His expression almost immediately turned to rage when he saw its contents. That gutter rat had drawn his Rose! He had drawn her nude! He grew even more furious when he saw the love song. It wasn't finished, but the dedication made his blood boil. The mouse thought that Rose would marry <em>him?<em> His eyes fell on the paper that had been sticking out it. It was a note.

_**Darling, now you can keep us all locked in your safe.**_

_**Rose**_

Cal crumpled the note in disgust. That girl was nothing more than a whore! He seized the drawing and the sheets of music, intending to rip them apart. He couldn't stand the sight of either of them. Then an idea came to his head, and his harsh hold on the papers lightened as he glanced down at the wads of bills in the safe.

"I have a better idea." He said to Lovejoy with a smirk.

* * *

><p>The sound of laughter down below on the well deck brought lookout watcher Fleet out of his tired daze. He glanced down to see three figures exiting a door. Two adults, a man and a woman, and a child, a little girl. They were all laughing so hard they could barely stay upright.<p>

Jack, Rose, and Clara, not knowing they were being watched, just kept on laughing as they ran down the deck. They couldn't believe they had just outsmarted the stewards.

"Did you see those guys' faces?" Jack spluttered out between fits of laughter.

"They looked so stupid!" said Clara. "That one guy opened the door, and then BAM! He goes from looking so smug to looking like an idiot from being confused!" Jack laughed and turned to Rose.

"Did you see tha-" Rose put a finger to his lips, silencing him. She wrapped her arms around him. It was bitterly freezing outside, but she couldn't even feel it. She had Jack to keep her warm.

"When the ship docks," she whispered, staring deeply into his eyes. "I'm getting off with you…" Jack smiled.

"This is crazy!" He stated. Rose laughed.

"I know," she said. "It doesn't make any sense, but that's why I trust it…"

They gazed lovingly at each other before embracing in a fiercely passionate kiss. Clara squealed in delight as she watched.

"Alright!" she shouted, jumping up and down and she hugged her nutcracker tightly against her chest in excitement. She had always known her brother to be a free spirit. She knew he would never settle down without a good reason to do so. Now he had a reason to settle down, and that reason was Rose. Perhaps the little carefree comment she had scribbled down for fun on the sheets of music would become a reality. Maybe Rose _would_ be her sister, one day…

Fleet chuckled at the happy scene as he nudged Lee.

"Oh yes… here, look at this!" He nodded down below. Lee smiled as he watched the couple kiss, and the little girl jumping up and down in excitement.

"Look at that," Lee murmured. "They're a bit warmer than we are!" Fleet playfully glared at him.

"Well, if that's what it takes for us to get warm, I'd rather not, it it's all the same," he said, pushing Lee back so he could sit back down. Lee chuckled as Fleet turned to stare back out at the open sea. Then their expressions fell, color draining from their faces.

On the distant horizon, something small as a dinner plate, but yet darker than the darkness of the night sky and the black waters, was approaching the ship dead on at an alarming speed, looming larger and larger with every passing second. Within milliseconds it was as big as a car. Fleet and Lee recognized what it was almost immediately.

"Bugger me!" Fleet shouted, reaching to ring the lookout bell with one hand. Then he grabbed the phone to call the bridge. Seconds passed as he waited for someone to answer, but he didn't dare take his eyes off the iceberg. "Pick up, you bastards…!"

* * *

><p>Inside the wheelhouse, Sixth-Officer Moody strolled unhurriedly over to the phone with his cup of tea. He brought the receiver to his ear.<p>

"Is anyone there?" He heard the lookout scream into the phone.

"Yes," he said in an exasperated, tired sigh. It was late, and he desperately wished to go to bed. "What do you see?"

"Iceberg!" Fleet shouted. "Right ahead!" Moody bolted awake.

"Thank you!" He replied. He jammed the speaker back down and ran to the doorway. He signaled for Murdoch to get inside.

"Iceberg, right ahead!" He shouted as Murdoch ran in.

"Hard to starboard!" Murdoch shouted back at Quartermaster Hitchens, who was currently steering the ship. He scrambled to turn the wheel fully to the side. Then he ran over to the telegraphs that connected to the engine rooms. He turned them all to _Full Speed Astern _before turning back around, and running back out to the bridge to look for the iceberg. He spied it easily.

"Is the hull over?" He shouted to Moody.

"Yes sir," he called back. "Hull's over!" Murdoch turned back around to face the iceberg. He clenched his jaw as it came even closer.

"C'mon… c'mon…" he whispered to himself. "Turn…!" With agonizing slowness, the bow ever so slightly turned, but it wasn't enough. Murdoch held his breath in shock as the starboard side of the bow smashed into ice. The steel plates of the hull popped as the ice scraped against it, leaving small holes in its wake. The entire ship rattled. He ran back inside and slammed his hand on the button that shut the doors to the watertight compartments.

The lights to every door flickered on the panel next to him, but Murdoch hardly noticed. He was in shock. He could hardly believe what had just happened. He was responsible. He had just driven _Titanic,_ the world's grandest ship, into an iceberg, and on its maiden voyage, no less.

"Have the time entered in the log," he said stiffly to Moody, still trying to make sense of the situation. Moody nodded and left just as Captain Smith rushed out of his cabin and onto the bridge as he tucked in his shirt.

"What was that, Mr. Murdoch?"

"An iceberg, sir," He replied, sweating profusely. "I put her hard to starboard, and ran the engines full astern, but it was too close and she hit."

"Close the watertight doors." Smith ordered. Murdoch shook his head.

"The doors are closed, sir," he told him. Smith's eyes widened and he ran out of the wheelhouse and onto the bridge. Murdoch followed.

"All stop!" he shouted back to Moody and Hitchens.

"Aye, sir!" Moody called back.

Captain Smith and Officer Murdoch just stared down at the well deck below, where chunks of ice were scattered about. "Find the carpenter," Smith told Murdoch. "Get him to sound the ship."

"Yes, sir." As Murdoch ran off, Captain Smith felt a sense of dread wash over him. He knew deep down something terrible was about to happen to his beloved ship.

Up in the crow's nest, Lee grabbed Fleet by the collar of his jacket. "Smell ice, can you?" he demanded. "Bleedin' Christ!"

* * *

><p>On G-Deck, Fabrizio snapped out his sleep as he was tossed around in his bed like a rag doll. The two Swedes jolted awake, too. Forgetting he was in the topmost bunk, Fabrizio shot his head upwards in surprise. He yelped in pain as a greatly amplified squeal much like the sound a blade of a skate makes on ice when a skater comes to a halt echoed through the room. Once the noise subsided, he jumped out of his bed. He yelped again, this time in surprise.<p>

"_Ma- che cazzo!"_ Something icy cold and wet was around his ankles. He flicked on the light to the room. The entire room was submerged up to three inches, which went just past his ankles, in the cold Atlantic waters. He ran from the room as the Swedes scrambled out of bed.

The corridor, too, was in a thin trail of water. Fabrizio saw Tommy exiting his own room, carrying his bundle of possessions as he threw on a coat.

"Come on!" Tommy shouted, seeing Fabrizio frozen in shock. "Let's get the hell outta here!" Fabrizio snapped out of his stupor, grabbed his shoes, and followed, slipping them on as he ran. They weren't the only ones, either. Other third-class passengers, carrying their limited belongings in suitcases and duffel bags, quickly joined them. Tommy nodded ahead to where a small group of rats were. They were all running in the opposite direction of the water. "If this is the direction the rats are runnin', it's good enough for me!"

* * *

><p>In his first-class stateroom, Thomas Andrews was busily making notes of the blueprints of the ship in his black book when he felt a shudder run through the ship. He glanced up. The crystal chandelier above him was rattling. He gasped. Something was wrong. He could feel it. He grabbed a coat, slipped on his shoes, and bolted from the room with the ships' blueprints. He didn't know what was going on, but he had to find out what it was. He had spent far too much time and dedicated too much of his soul into building this ship to allow something to happen to it.<p>

As he ran down the corridor, he saw the stewards hurriedly trying to reassure other first-class passengers, dressed in their robes and slippers, that there was no immediate danger.

"Excuse me," he heard one woman say to a passing steward as he walked past them. "Why have the engines stopped? I felt a shudder!"

"I wouldn't worry, madam," said the steward. "We've likely thrown a propeller blade, that's the shudder you felt. May I bring you anything?"

Were it not for the fact that he had no idea what condition the ship was in, Mr. Andrews would have ridiculed the man. He was the only man on board that could verify if nothing was wrong, and until he could, he was forced to admit to himself that no one was safe. Ismay, dressed in his own bathrobe, briskly followed him out of his cabin.

"Any idea what happened?" Ismay asked him. Like Andrews, Ismay was very concerned. As the president of the White Star Line, he would be blamed if anything were to happen to _Titanic._ Andrews shook his head.

"Not in the slightest, he replied. "But I intend to find out what."

* * *

><p>Cal stormed out of his room, feigning worry, but not his anger. There was no reason for him to pretend to be angry when he in reality actually was. Lovejoy followed him out. He didn't know what had just happened to make the entire ship rock as it just did, but he truly didn't give damn. The only thing Hockley cared about right now was the fact that now was the perfect opportunity to put his plan into action. He spied a steward a few yards away, trying to calm down some other worried passengers.<p>

"You there!" he shouted, rushing over to him. The steward jumped, startled.

"Sir," he began delicately. "There is no emer-"

"Yes there is!" He interrupted. "I have been robbed!"

"Get the Master at Arms," Lovejoy ordered. The steward just stood there, staring at them.

"Now, you moron!" Cal ordered.

"Y-yes sir!" the steward squeaked before running off to find the man.

* * *

><p>Jack and Rose broke apart from their kiss as the ship shook violently. Clara struggled to grab hold of something as she bounced around. It was almost as though the ship was sailing over a thousand marbles, and Clara, unfortunately, was having trouble staying upright from its shakiness. Jack let go of Rose and scooped her up, not wanting Clara to get hurt. As he looked up again, he froze, seeing the iceberg.<p>

"Get back!" he screamed, keeping hold of Clara with one hand while he gently, but quickly pushed Rose back with the other as chunks of ice came hurtling off the side of the iceberg and landed on the deck. Jack gently set Clara down after the ice stopped flying. The three of them watched in shock as the ship glided past it. Then they ran up to the railing to get a closer look. The iceberg was already far away.

"The boat looks alright," Jack said after a few long moments, glancing over to where the iceberg had struck the ship. "I don't see anything…" Rose looked over to him.

"Could it have damaged the ship?" She asked, worried.

"Well, it didn't seem like much of a bump…" he said uncertainly. "I think we're alright…"

"No! We're not!" They whirled around. Clara was looking at the ice on the deck with fearful, bulging eyes. She was squeezing her nutcracker so hard, it was certain to break. "We're gonna sink! This is just like in mama's story! The ship strikes an iceberg and sinks! We're going to sink! I know it!" Jack grabbed her roughly by the shoulders. She snapped out of her panicked daze and stared at him.

"Everything's fine, Clair," he assured her. "I'm sure it was just a small bump, there's nothing to- Ah!" He screamed. Clara screamed, too. Rose had stuck bits of ice down the back of Jack's shirt, and the back of Clara's dress.

"So cold!" Clara shouted, laughing as she tried to wedge the chunk of ice out of her dress.

"Alright, that's it!" Jack said, looking at Rose mischievously. "You're going overboard!"

"No!" Rose screamed as he literally lifted her over his shoulder. "No, Jack!" They all laughed as he set her back down. The fear they had all felt moments ago was forgotten.

"Hey there," said a new voice. The three of them turned around, startled. Mr. Marvin was standing behind them, with a photography camera. "You're the three I saw yesterday, aren't you?" They nodded. He beamed. "That's good. I was just photographing the ice, and I saw you three here. I was just wondering, for a dime, would you all like a picture taken to remember this?" Jack turned to Rose and Clara.

"What do you guys say?" He asked.

"I'd like that, big brother!" Clara said happily. Rose smiled.

"I'm not against it," she said. Jack smiled and gave him a dime. Mr. Marvin smiled.

"Excellent! Just stand over there by the railing together!" They did as he asked. Jack pulled Rose into his chest, wrapping one of his arms around her as he put his other on Clara's shoulder. Rose giggled and placed her hands on his chest while Clara gazed up at him affectionately. With one hand, she held the hand Jack had set on her shoulder, and the other gently held the edges of the Heart of the Ocean, with her nutcracker under her arm. "Smile!" Mr. Marvin said as he clicked the button on the camera. The picture shot out from the bottom. He gave them the picture and tipped his hat before walking away.

"Let's date it, big brother!" Clara suggested.

"Sure, all right," Jack said. He took one of his pens out of the pocket of his trousers, and scribbled down the date as well as their initials in the lower right corner. The three of them smiled at the picture. Rose suddenly shivered as a gust of cold air hit her.

"It's cold," she said, rubbing her arms to keep warm. "Why don't we all go back inside?" Jack and Clara nodded. Clara climbed onto Jack's back as he pocketed the picture, and took Rose's hand, leading her up the steps that led back up to first-class. They were shutting the gate behind them, when Captain Smith, First-Officer Murdoch, the ships carpenter Hutchinson, Mr. Andrews, and Mr. Ismay rounded the corner. Mr. Andrews and Mr. Ismay hardly even glanced at them as they hurtled past.

"Can you shore up?" The three of them heard Smith ask, concerned.

"Not unless the pumps get ahead." Said Hutchinson as the inspection party went down the stairs to reach the well deck.

"Have you seen the damage in the mail hold?" asked Andrews.

"No, she's already underwater…" Jack, Rose, and Clara stared at each other as their voices faded away.

"This is bad," Jack whispered, not believing his ears.

"I told you!" Clara said, sliding off his back so she could hug her nutcracker with both hands. "I told you! The ship's going to sink!" For once, Jack didn't criticize her. It was now a likely possibility that the ship would sink.

"We should tell mother and Cal," said Rose, concerned. They nodded.

* * *

><p>Back in the Millionaire Suite, Cal sat upon one of the Empire divan sofa, pretending to be tense as he smoked a cigarette. Ruth was pacing nervously back and forth in her nightdress as the Master at Arms sifted through Jack and Clara's music and artwork.<p>

"I think they're very good, sir," he commented. Cal snarled and ripped the pages he had been looking at from his hands.

"Don't touch any!" he commanded. "I want the entire room photographed!"

Lovejoy just watched from the doorway. He was keeping silent; knowing his role in the horrible scheme his employer had cooked up. The sound of approaching footsteps made him turn. Jack, Rose, and Clara were walking down the corridor towards him. Jack was holding hands with Rose, and carrying Clara on his back. He smirked and walked over to them. It was time for Cal's plan to be put into action.

"We've been looking for you, miss," he said to Rose as she and Jack and Clara walked past him. Lovejoy casually strolled behind them as he slipped three wads of bills into Clara's coat pockets before adding four wads into the pockets of the overcoat on Jack. None of them even noticed.

"Here we go," Rose whispered to Jack and Clara as they went in. Lovejoy shut the door behind them. Cal and Ruth were silent as the three of them entered. Rose took a deep breath, not sure what to say. She decided just to state her reasons for coming back. "Something serious had happened." She stated. Cal scoffed.

"Yes it has," he said as he discreetly glanced over to Lovejoy. He nodded to show he had done his job. "Indeed," he continued, looking back over at Rose, Jack, and Clara. "Many things dear to me have disappeared this evening. Now that one is back…" he paused, taking a long look between each of them. He pretended to make double take at Clara, shocked. She could see the evil gleam in his eyes and hugged Jack even tighter. "Actually, make that two!" He stormed over to Jack, and ripped Clara off his back. She screamed in fear.

"What are you-" He slapped her, pretending to be enraged. She went flying into the wall. Jack lunged at him, but was held back by Lovejoy.

"Don't you touch her!" He shouted, fighting against Lovejoy's grip. "Do whatever you want to me, but don't you dare lay one hand on my sister!" Cal sneered at him as he forcefully grabbed Clara by the wrist, hauling her to her feet.

"I'll treat any thief that dares to steal from me however I choose," he said coolly. Clara stared at him, confused.

"Thief? What are you- Hey, give that back!" she screamed as Cal ripped the diamond off her throat. He chuckled as he turned to the Master at Arms. "It's mine!"

"There you have it!" he said, amused. "She doesn't even deny it! Arrest her!" The Master at Arms took out a pair of handcuffs, and started to approach Clara. Rose quickly moved between them.

"I gave her that, Cal!" she shouted. Everyone stared at her.

"Say that again, Sweetpea?" said Cal, shocked. He knew that Lovejoy had said that the mouse had the necklace, but it had never, not once, crossed his mind that Rose had possibly given it to her. Rose glared at him.

"I said, I gave that to her!" She spat. "Clara didn't steal it! I gave her the necklace!" Cal grew even angrier at her statement.

"That was not yours to give away!" he snapped. "Besides, that still doesn't explain where the other missing things are!" he turned to the Master at Arms. "Search them!" he demanded. "Search them both!" He nodded, stepped over to Jack and Clara, who Cal had now released.

"Take your coats off, sir, miss," he said, forcing Clara's jacket off before turning to Jack.

"Now what?" Jack said irritably as he shrugged it off. Rose was confused. She had thought this was only about the diamond.

"Cal, what are you doing?" she demanded. "We're in the middle on an emergency! What's going on?" Before he could answer, one of the stewards pulled something out of the pocket of Jack's coat.

"Are these it?" he asked, showing everyone the money and the photograph. Rose was shocked, as was Jack and Clara, at the sight of the money. Cal took the picture. He stared at it for a moment before placing it inside the portfolio as he shook his head.

"No, there was more…" his eyes fell on Clara. The Master at Arms went through the pockets of her coat and brought out the rest of the money. Rose stared at them, not believing her eyes.

"This is horseshit!" Jack thundered.

"Don't you believe it, Rose!" Clara screamed. "Don't!" She uncertainly nodded.

"They… they couldn't have!" Rose said. She refused to believe that Jack, the man she had fallen in love with, the man she had made love with, had taken the money, nor that his sweet and innocent little sister could do this any more than he could. Cal sneered.

"Of course they could," he declared as the Master at Arms handcuffed the two of them together. "It's easy enough for a professional."

"But… I was with them the whole time!" Rose protested. "This is absurd!" Cal sneered and whispered in a cold voice,

"Perhaps they did it while you were putting your clothes back on, dear!" he hissed, not intending for anyone else to hear him, but Jack and Clara did.

"Real slick, Cal!" Jack snapped. "Lovejoy put them in our pockets!"

"Shut up!" Cal commanded.

"They're not even your pockets," said Lovejoy coolly as he examined the coats. "Property of A. and L. Ryerson." The Master at Arms took the jackets and read the names silently.

"Those were reported stolen today," he added. Rose stared in disbelief.

"W-we just borrowed them!" Clara protested. "We were going to return them!" Cal laughed haughtily.

"We have honest thieves, here!" he said mockingly. Rose didn't hear him. She stared at Jack and Clara in betrayal. Was that all they were? Thieves? Had she considered the little girl in front of her as her sister, when in reality all she cared about was pickpocketing? Had the man in front of her felt anything toward her at all, or had he just romanced her in order to pay for his next meal?

"You _know_ we didn't do this, Rose!" Jack said, not believing that she could possibly be accepting this lie. "You know it!"

"Don't you believe it, Rose!" Clara shouted. "Don't!" Rose didn't say a word. She was too hurt to say anything.

"Come on, son, lass," said the Master at Arms suddenly, hauling them both out of the suite.

"You know we didn't do this, Rose!" Jack shouted, he and Clara trying to fight out of his grip.

"You know us, Rose!" Clara screamed, kicking at the legs of the man as she and Jack were pulled down the corridors. Rose just stared after them with tears in her eyes, feeling her heart break. Ruth placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"You know we didn't do it!" Jack shouted. "You _know_ us…!"

* * *

><p>Mr. Andrews scrambled into the chartroom on the bridge, spreading out his blueprints of the ship on an empty table with shaking hands. Smith, Hutchinson, Murdoch, and Ismay followed him inside. The other officers were silent, watching with apprehension.<p>

"Water, fourteen feet above the keel in ten minutes," Andrews croaked, pointing at the blueprints as spoke to emphasize. "In the forepeak, in all three holds, and in boiler room six…"

"That's right, sir," said Hutchinson. Ismay huffed.

"When can we get underway, damn it?" he demanded. Every moment _Titanic_ wasn't moving meant less publicity for the ship once it docked, in Ismay's opinion.

"That's five compartments!" Said Andrews, turning to face Captain Smith. "She could stay afloat with the first four compartments breached, but not five. Not five. As she goes down by the head, the water will spill over the tops of the bulkheads… at E-deck… from one to the next… back and back. There's no stopping it!"

"The pumps!" said Smith, desperate to find a solution. "We open the pumps-"

"The pumps," Andrews interrupted, "buy you time, but minutes only. From this moment, no matter what we do…_ Titanic_ will founder…" The room went deathly quiet.

"But this ship cannot sink!" Ismay protested, not wanting to believe what Andrews had just said.

"She's made of iron, sir," said Mr. Andrews, turning around to face him. "I assure you she can, and she will. It is a mathematical certainty." Ismay's face drained of color. His greatest dream was turning into his worst nightmare.

"…How much time?" asked Captain Smith after several agonizingly long moments.

"An hour, two at the most…" Andrews replied. Smith looked as though he had been punched in the stomach. He turned to Murdoch.

"And how many aboard, Mr. Murdoch?" he asked, fearing the answer.

"Two thousand two hundred souls on board, sir," Murdoch hesitantly replied. Smith was silent for quite some time. Then he turned around, and said in a grave, frightened tone,

"I believe you may get your headlines, Mr. Ismay."


	7. Unwilling to Leave

**I must be on a roll! I can't believe how fast I carved this out!**

* * *

><p>Rose was frightened. She was alone with Cal, and he was angry, nonetheless. He had his back to her, but she could tell he was fuming. She could only pray he wouldn't attempt to rape her in order to mark his property. There was a long pause before he turned around. He slowly walked over to her, regarding her with a cold expression. He opened mouth, thought for a moment, and then closed it. Rose stared at him, puzzled. His expression turned to rage, and he slapped her with the back of his hand. Hard. Her head snapped back from the force of the blow. He glared at her.<p>

"Oh, it is a little slut, isn't it?" he jeered. Rose didn't respond. She just touched her cheek, feeling it burn. It hurt, as did his words, but they couldn't compare to how pained her heart was, right then. Cal grew even more livid when she didn't reply.

"You look at me when I'm talking to you!" He shouted, seizing her by the shoulders. Rose stared at him fearfully, afraid of what he would do next. Then, to her great relief, a knock on the door interrupted them.

"Mr. Hockley?" said a steward, opening the door.

"Not now!" Cal spat. "We're busy!" The steward ignored his demand.

"Sir, I've been told to ask you to please put on your lifebelts and come up-"

"I said, not now!" Cal thundered. The steward glared at him bravely.

"I'm sorry to inconvenience you, Mr. Hockley, but it's Captain's orders!" said the steward, going into the closet to take out the life vests that were stored inside. "Now please, dress warmly! It's quite cold out tonight! Might I suggest top coats and hats?" Cal released his grip on Rose, furious by this sudden demand.

"This is ridiculous!" He muttered, going into the other room to inform Ruth. Rose didn't say anything. She was no longer scared of Cal; she was terrified of what she had just heard. She had seen the iceberg. She had seen it with her own two eyes. With Jack and Clara. Could they possibly in danger? They were currently being taken down to the Master at Arms office, which was down in the third-class levels. If the ship _was_ possibly sinking, they were in terrible danger. It didn't matter if they had stolen the money or not to Rose. She certainly didn't want them to die.

"Not to worry, miss," said the steward, under the impression that her panicked expression was for having to put on the lifebelts. "I'm sure it's just a precaution."

* * *

><p>In the wireless control room, Captain Smith scribbled out their current coordinates, as well as the letters, CQD, on a slip of paper. He gave to Phillips, who stared at him in shock.<p>

"CQD?" he said, reading the paper in his hands in disbelief. "Sir?" Smith frowned and nodded.

"That's right, CQD," he said sadly. "The distress call. That's our position." He nodded to the coordinates he had scribbled down and sighed. "Tell whoever responds that we're going down by the head, and we need immediate assistance." He left, not waiting for a reply from him or Bride. The two operators just stared at each other in shock.

"Blimey…" Phillips said to himself, turning back around to the desk as he put the headphones back on. He started to tap in the letters, when Bride stopped him.

"Maybe we ought to try that new distress call," he suggested. "S.O.S." Phillips stared at him. Did it really matter what distress call they used? "It maybe our only chance to use it…" Bride clarified with a grin, seeing the confusion on Phillips face. Seeing his logic, Phillips couldn't help but laugh, too, despite the seriousness of the situation. He turned back to the machine, and started sending out history's very first S.O.S. The sound of each little individual tap echoed throughout the room.

* * *

><p>Thomas Andrews walked dejectedly across the boat deck, watching sadly as the crewmen around him fumbled with the davits to release the lifeboats. There wasn't a single passenger in sight. He rushed over to Murdoch.<p>

"Murdoch, where are all the passengers?" he yelled over the roar of the steam funnels. Murdoch pointed to the first-class entrance.

"They've all gone back inside," he shouted back. "It's too damn cold and noisy for them!" Mr. Andrews just nodded with a sigh. He felt as though he had walked into the beginnings of a terrible nightmare. He stared sadly down at his pocket watch before going inside. All around him, first-class passengers were walking around; enjoying the music the band was playing. Some were laughing, thinking they would be back in bed within a matter of minutes. Others were wandering around aimlessly, confused as to why they had been awoken from their slumber and were trying to figure out what was going on. He nearly shed tears. They had no idea that within an hour, their worst fears would be brought to life. A waiter approached him with a tray of champagne glasses.

"Care for a drink, sir?" the waiter asked. Andrews ignored him, resisting the urge to laugh. This man thought he wanted a drink? Could he not see the hopelessness in his eyes? He wanted to scream that the ship was sinking to these simple-minded people. The only thing stopping him was the thought of what would happen if he did. Panic would ensue, he was quite certain of that.

Out in the foyer, at the foot of the Grand Staircase, Molly Brown was growing impatient and confused. She didn't know what was going on, and if she were to do anything to assist in this situation in any way possible, she had to know. She stopped a passing steward.

"Hey, sonny, what's doing?" she demanded. "You've got us all trussed up here, and now we're cooling our heels!" The steward just backed away from her, not sure what to say. He knew for a fact that the rumor about the ship having lost a propeller blade was wrong, but he himself wasn't entirely sure what was going on, exactly.

"S-sorry, ma'am," he stuttered, stumbling on the stairs. "L-let me go find out!" Molly shook her head and turned to the two men next her as he ran off.

"I don't think anybody knows what the hell's going on around here," she said as Rose, Cal, and Ruth came in with Trudy and another maid.

"Goddamn English doing everything by the book!" Cal said furiously.

"There's no need for language, Mr. Hockley," said Ruth as the second maid slipped her coat on over her lifebelt. She turned to her and Trudy. "Go back and turn the heaters on in our rooms," she ordered. "I'd like a cup of tea when I return."

"Yes ma'am," said Trudy as they left. Rose watched, not knowing that this would be the last time she would ever see her friend.

Just then, Mr. Andrews walked into the foyer. For a moment, Rose just watched as he looked around the magnificent, grand room. She saw the heartbreak in his eyes. It was then that she realized that the ship really was doomed, but she had to verify it. She had to know for sure.

"Mr. Andrews!" she said, grabbing the sleeve of his coat. He turned, snapping out of his stupor. Cal, curious, approached them. Rose didn't spare him a glance. "I saw the iceberg, and I see it in your eyes. Please, tell me the truth!" He stared helplessly at her. Then he said in a soft, sad voice,

"The ship will sink."

"You're certain?" Rose asked, not wanting to believe it. He nodded.

"Yes," he replied. "In an hour or so, all of this will be at the bottom of the Atlantic…"

"What?" said Cal, shocked by this sudden revelation. Rose's hand flew to her mouth.

"Please," he begged. "Tell only who you must. I don't want to be responsible for a panic, and get to a boat, quickly! Don't wait!" He added. "You remember what I told you about the boats?" Rose slowly nodded.

"Yes…" she whispered. "I understand. Thank you." He ran off, urging passengers to put on their lifebelts and get to the lifeboats as he walked by them. Rose's head was spinning. She had been right. _Titanic_ was sinking. That meant Jack and Clara were in danger. The thought reeled in her head as Cal swiftly dragged her and her mother outside to the boat deck.

* * *

><p>"We never stole anything!" Clara screamed, kicking against the Master at Arms as he handcuffed her and Jack to a water pipe that stretched from the floor to the ceiling. "We're innocent, I tell you!" He ignored her as a crewman rushed into the office.<p>

"Sir, they need you up in the second-class Pursers' office," he said urgently.

"Go on," said Lovejoy as he took a revolver out of the inner pockets of his jacket. "I'll keep an eye on them."

"Aye, right," said the Master at Arms, following the crewman out, handing him the key to the handcuffs as he left. Clara glared at Lovejoy as he sat down on a nearby chair.

"You _know_ we're innocent!" she spat at him. "Why not release us? No one will know it was you!" He ignored her. "Hey I'm talking to you!" she shouted. Jack just patted her sadly on the shoulder with his free hand.

"Forget it, Clair," he said, hanging his head so she wouldn't see his tears. "He's not going to listen…" But Clara didn't intend to give up just like that, though. She leapt against the restraints, trying to lunge at the bodyguard.

"Let us go!" she screamed as fresh tears began pooling down her cheeks. "We're innocent!" Lovejoy snarled, having had enough of her yelling. He snatched her nutcracker out of her grip. She screamed, terrified of what he might do to her toy.

"One more word," he hissed, "and this stupid toy is history!" Clara slowly nodded, not wanting anything to happen to it. He smirked, setting it down on the desk next to him.

"Hey, give that back to her!" Jack demanded. Lovejoy ignored him.

* * *

><p>"Sir!" Bride shouted to Captain Smith. Smith turned, eager to hear some good news at last. <em>"Carpathia<em> says they're making seventeen knots! Full speed for them, sir!"

"Is she the only one who's responded?" Smith asked.

"The only one close, sir," Bride replied. "She says they can be here in four hours."

"Four hours!" cried Captain Smith. He nodded. Smith sighed. He knew that by then it would be too late. "Thank you, Bride." He turned away as Bride went back to the Wireless Control Room, and stared out at the vast black sea. "My God…" he whispered to himself as Lightoller approached him.

"Hadn't we better get the women and children into the boats, sir?" he asked. Smith just nodded a bit. He didn't have the strength to do anything else. Lightoller just stared, not wanting to believe that his Captain could already be giving up. "Sir?"

"Women and children first," Smith said sadly. Lightoller nodded.

"Yes, sir," he said before walking back over to where the passengers were gathered. "Ladies and gentlemen," he shouted out. "Your attention, please! Step this way, please. That's right. Come towards me. Thank you! Now, for the time being, I shall require only women and children." As he said this, the band exited the foyer, carrying their instruments and chairs.

"Right here," said violinist Wallace Hartley, setting down his chair. "All right, boys. Like the Captain said, nice and cheery, so there's no panic." His fellow musicians nodded. _"Wedding Dance."_ They started to play as the first boat filled up.

"Lower it away," Murdoch called out. "Left and right together! Both sides together! Steady! Stop, hold the left side!" He shouted, seeing the collapsible starting to tilt and its passengers scream. "Right side only! Right side only! Hold the left side! Now, lower away together!"

Meanwhile, Fourth-Officer Boxhall and Quartermaster Rowe were lighting the first distress rocket. It shot out into the sky, exploding with a powerful thunderclap. Passengers stared up at it, startled, as its white starbursts faded away, momentarily lighting up the entire deck as they fell. Rose just stared fearfully at them. Many of the people around her were assuming they were simply fireworks, but she knew better. That was a distress rocket. It was no longer just words she had to be afraid of now. It was a reality. The mighty _Titanic _was really sinking.

Bruce Ismay shared her fears. The Managing Director of the White Star Line was at his breaking point from the immense guilt he was feeling. That little girl he had met the other night, Clara, he believed she was called, had tried to warn him. She had tried to warn everyone about this ship, but he hadn't listened. No one had listened to her, but she had been right. This ship was going to sink, and the sight of the distress rocket was all it took for him to crack.

"For God's sake, hurry!" he shouted, running to the nearest boat, which happened to be Lifeboat Five. "There's no time to waste!" he shouted to the nearby officer as he tried to handle the ropes attached to the collapsible. "Lower away, lower away!" The officer, Fifth-Officer Lowe, shoved the madman aside.

"Get out of the way, you fool!" he shouted at him. He was endangering the passengers aboard the boat with his insanity. "You'll drown the lot of them!"

"Do you know who I am?" he shouted back, not believing how this man had just treated him. Actually, Lowe didn't have a clue who Ismay was, nor did he care at that moment. People were in danger, and it was his job to do what he could to save them, not ramble nonsense with this lunatic.

"You're a passenger, and I'm a ship's bloody officer!" Lowe shouted. "Now, do as you're told!" He turned away to face the crewmen lowering the boat. "Steady men! Stand by the falls!"

"Yes, you're quite right," Ismay mumbled as he backed away. "Sorry, I-" Lowe ignored him. Ismay sighed and stared around him. Lowe was right. He had nearly caused a huge accident. But he felt he had to do something. This whole mess was partially his fault. He spied some women standing nearby, not wanting to board one of the lifeboats. Ismay walked over to them, determined to get them in the next boat. If he couldn't help launch the boats, the least he could do was help fill them.

* * *

><p>Jack and Clara stared through the porthole window beside them with apprehension, fear bubbling in them at the level of the water outside. Lovejoy was playing with one of his bullets. He was continuously picking it up, setting it down in the exact center of the desk, and watching as it rolled across the surface toward him. He glanced up at them, putting the bullet in his gun.<p>

"You know… I do believe this ship may sink," he told them, rising from his chair. He walked over to them. Clara hugged Jack with her free arm, terrified that he might shoot them. Jack maneuvered himself protectively in front of her. "I've been asked to give each of you these small tokens of our appreciation…" Lovejoy paused for a long moment, watching them stare fearfully at him. Then he punched Jack hard in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him.

"Big brother!" Clara screamed just before Lovejoy slapped her across the face with the back of his hand. Jack glared at him.

"Do… do whatever you want… with me…" Jack wheezed out. "But… don't touch… my sister… You've had… your fun… now just… give her back… her nutcracker…" Lovejoy smirked.

"Compliments of Mr. Caledon Hockley." He declared, ignoring Jack's simple request as he exited the room, pausing only to pocket the key to their handcuffs. Clara started to cry.

"Big brother, are you hurt?" She whimpered out. He shook his head.

"No, I'll be fine." He groaned. "You?" she nodded, tears still flowing down her face. "I'm sorry," he said, "I couldn't get him to give you back your little toy."

"It's okay," she sobbed, hugging him tightly. Jack hugged her back, scared out of his wits. What was going to happen to them, now?

* * *

><p>Rose was silent as she, her mother, and Cal pushed their way closer to the boat Lightoller was currently loading, watching the tearful farewells between woman and their husbands, brothers, and lovers. As she watched, the thought of Jack rang throughout her head. Were he and Clara okay? Were they being released from the Master at Arms office in order to escape from the ship?<p>

"Come on, sister," said Molly Brown to a reluctant woman nearby, helping her onto the boat. "You heard the man. Into the boat." Cal, meanwhile, was trying to bribe his way aboard.

"Any room for a gentleman, gentleman?"

"Only women at this time, sir."

"Will the lifeboats be seated according to class?" Her mother asked the officer. "I do hope they're not too crowded…" Something inside Rose snapped when she heard Ruth say that. For the first time since the Master at Arms had pulled all the stolen money out Jack and Clara's pockets, she felt rage spark within her, mixed with disgust.

"Oh mother, shut up!" Her mother stared at her in frozen silence. Never had Rose spoken to her before in such manner. "Don't you understand?" Rose grabbed her roughly by the shoulders to emphasize. "The water is freezing, and there's not enough boats, not enough by half! Half the people on this ship are going to die!"

"Not the better half," Cal mumbled. Rose let go of Ruth to stare at him, not believing what he had just said. Was he so cold-hearted, that he didn't even care about what would happen to the people in the decks below?

"Come on, Ruth, get in the boat!" said Molly Brown, helping her aboard. "First-class seats are right up here."

"You know, it's a pity I didn't that drawing, or that song," said Cal. "They'll both be worth a lot more by morning." Rose just stared at him, disgusted. The rage she had felt moments ago towards her mother felt like love compared to the pure loathing she now felt toward her so-called fiancé.

"You unimaginable bastard…" she whispered is disgust as the next distress rocket launched overhead, bathing her in a halo of white light.

"Come on, Rose, darlin'," said Molly Brown suddenly, offering her hand to help her aboard. "There's plenty of room for you." Rose didn't move. "Come on, Rose," she urged. "You're next, darlin'."

"Come into the boat, Rose." Her mother said, seeing that she still hadn't moved. Rose shook her head. Cal looked furious.

"Come!" he ordered, now stretching out his hand. She didn't take it.

"Rose!" her mother snapped, starting to lose her temper. "Get into the boat!" Rose shook her head, and then, with a nod to herself knowing what she had to do, she said, with all the class imaginable for an aristocratic woman to say, the last words she would ever say to Ruth Dewitt Bukater:

"Goodbye, mother."

And then she ran away from the boat, determined to find someone, anyone, that knew where Jack and Clara were. She couldn't leave the ship. Not without knowing they were all right. She couldn't leave without knowing they were safe in one of the lifeboats, as well.

"Rose?" her mother said, shocked. "Rose come back here!" Rose ignored her. Words couldn't stop her. Nobody could stop her in her mission. Cal, however, thought otherwise. He ran after her, yanking her back by the wrist.

"Where are you going?" he demanded. "To _them?_ To be the whore to a gutter rat and the nanny of some penniless mouse?" She glared icily at him.

"I would rather," she spat, "be his whore, and her nanny, more than _your_ wife!" Cal was stunned. She attempted to walk away, but his grip on her wrist tightened.

"No!" He shouted, trying to drag her back to the boat. "I said no!" Rose glared even darker at him. It was high time she set Caledon Hockley in his place. Using all of the wisdom that Jack and Clara had been kind enough to bestow upon her, she leaned her head back, hacked up a good amount of saliva, and spat it all right into his eye. Cal, shocked from this, subconsciously let her go. She ran, never stopping once, as she heard her mother continuing to plead for her to return as her boat was lowered away into the freezing waters of the North Atlantic.

"Rose, please stop! Rose! Come back! Wait, Rose!"

Rose nearly shed a tear as she listened to her pleas. Yes, she had always known her mother loved her, in her own way, but only now did she realize just how much. She was almost tempted to turn back around, but then the thought of Jack and Clara drowning below decks made her remember why she was doing this, and she kept on running.

_Farewell, mother,_ Rose thought to herself as she pushed her way through a now slightly panicked crowd. _I hope you manage to find the happiness you have always searched for in extreme wealth…_

* * *

><p>Back in the Master at Arms office, Jack and Clara were terrified for their lives. The water level now went past the porthole window, meaning that the ship was starting to slowly tilt.<p>

"Help!" Jack shouted, rattling his side of their connected handcuffs onto the metal water pipe to try and draw someone's attention. "Can anybody hear me? Somebody, help us!"

"Can anyone hear us?" Clara screamed, banging her side of the cuffs against it as well. "Help us! Please, we're trapped!"

"Can anyone hear us? Help us!"

"Please, if you can hear us, get help! Quick!"

Their efforts were in vain. Everyone in third-class had already left to try to have a chance to live by arguing with the stewards, who were minding the locked gates that separated them from the other classes, since the deserted corridor was now starting to flood. Jack sighed.

"This could be bad," he mumbled under his breath, not intending for Clara to hear him. But she did.

"Oh, it's bad, Jack!" she screamed, trying to claw her way up the pipe in fear. Jack turned to her, confused, but then his eyes widened in terror.

"Oh, shit!" he cried. He literally scooped up Clara with his free hand, and started trying to climb up the pipe. Water was starting to spill inside from underneath the semi-closed door. "Clara, try and get on my back!" he instructed. She didn't hesitate to comply. "Hang on real tight!" He added, now climbing it properly since both his hands were now free.

"I will!" she screamed, terrified, as he tried to squeeze his hand out of the cuffs. So long as one of them managed to get the cuffs off, they would be able to get out.

"Come on!" he mumbled, trying to make his wrist smaller to get it out. "Come on, come on!" He groaned in pain as he nearly broke his thumb. Clara suddenly screamed. He turned in surprise. Her nutcracker was wobbling on the desk as the water caused it to start floating. It was tilting dangerously towards the water.

"Don't fall…" Clara whispered. "Please, don't fall…"

Her pleas were useless. Mere seconds later, her beloved treasure fell off the desk, and floated out the door. She sobbed uncontrollably into her brother's shoulder.

"My nutcracker…" she whimpered. "My nutcracker! He's… he's gone!" Jack, despite the seriousness of the life-or-death situation, gently stroked her hair to comfort her.

"It's okay, Clara," he cooed as he tried to calm her down. "It's going to be okay…" She gazed up at him with teary eyes.

"Big brother," she whispered fearfully, "are we going to die?" Jack froze, not sure how he ought to respond.

"I don't know, sis," he whispered, glancing at the rising water in fear. "I honestly don't know…"

* * *

><p>"Mr. Andrews!" Rose called out, running along the first-class lodgings in one of the corridors. If there was anyone she could trust to tell her the truth of where Jack and Clara had been taken, it was him. "Mr. Andrews!" She quickly found him, trying to insist to the still reluctant passengers to get up to the boat decks.<p>

"Stewards–check the starboard corridor! Madam, please," he pleased with a woman who had just exited her room, "put on a lifebelt! Get to the boat deck, immediately!" He turned to face a nearby maid. "For God's sake, put on a lifebelt! Set a good example!" The maid nodded as he opened the door to the room next to him. "Anyone in here?"

"Mr. Andrews! Thank God!" Rose shouted, running up to him breathlessly. He turned, startled. "Where would the Master at Arms take two people under arrest?"

"What?" he asked. He didn't understand why that mattered, right now. The ship was bloody sinking! She had to escape while there was still time! "You have to get to a boat!" he declared, starting to lead her away. "Right now!"

"No!" she shouted, yanking her arm away. "I'm doing this with, or without your help, sir! But without will take longer! Jack and Clara will drown otherwise!" Mr. Andrews froze. The polite young man and the shy little girl he had met the other night at dinner? The brother of the little girl that had actually warned everyone about this ship being cursed? They were down below somewhere? He nodded, realizing that Rose was right. He had to help her save them, even if that meant risking Rose's safety.

"Take the elevator to the very bottom," he instructed. "Go to the left. Down the crewmen's passage, then go right, and left again at the stairs. You'll come to a long corridor."

"Bottom, left, right, left," she recited. "Got it!"

"Hurry, Rose!" Mr. Andrews shouted after her.

"Excuse me, thank you!" Rose called out as she pushed her way past other first-class passengers to reach the elevators. She spied the attendant to one of them arguing with a middle-aged woman. He turned to her as she approached.

"I'm sorry, miss," he said to Rose, "but the lifts are closed." Rose glared, and slammed him inside the small compartment.

"I'm through being polite, Goddamn it!" she screamed. "Now, take me down!" The operator didn't hesitate to fulfill her demand. He slammed the lever to go down in fear. "E-Deck."

They were silent as they the elevator went down. Neither of them had anything to say. When they were halfway across the wing of E-Deck, water started to pour inside. Rose and the elevator operator screamed.

"I'm going back up!" he shouted, reaching for the lever.

"No!" Rose screamed, flinging the gates to the compartment open.

"Miss, come back!" he screamed as she splashed out into the corridor. "I'm going back up!" he warned, hoping that she would come back inside. "I'm going back up!" She didn't move as he pulled the lever, forcing the elevator to leave the chilling waters on E-Deck. She just watched him go back up, thoroughly disgusted by his cowardice. Then she looked frantically around her, trying to remember what Mr. Andrews had said.

"Crew passage…" she said under her breath, hiking up the skirt of her dress in order to wade through the knee-deep water. She spied a door marked 'Crew Passage,' and made her way through it, leaning onto the walls to support herself.

She had to climb over, and throw discarded luggage and furniture floating in the dark corridors out of her way as she went. She didn't have time to find another way. As she climbed over a wooden chair, she spied something floating nearby in the water. A small doll in a red suit. Fear pooled in her stomach when she saw it, praying that it wasn't what she thought it was. She hastily waded over to it and picked it up. Her heart stopped, recognizing it as Clara's nutcracker.

"Jack! Clara!" she shouted, holding on to the nutcracker as she pushed her way through the water, determined to find them. As she waited for any sort of reply, the lights above her flickered, and she stopped for a moment, terrified. "Jack!" she screamed again. "Clara!"

A few doors away, Jack and Clara, who by now had stopped fighting against their restraints and were slowly coming to terms with their sealed fates, looked at each other in shock when they heard Rose's voice.

"Jack!" she shouted. "Clara!"

"Rose!" Jack shouted back, alerting her to their whereabouts. "Rose, over here!"

Rose froze, whirling around. "Jack? Clara?"

"Rose, in here!" Clara screamed. "Rose, we're in here!" Despite the fact that the freezing waters were making her legs go numb, Rose bolted as fast as she could through the door she had heard their voices come from.

"Jack! Clara!" she shouted as she swung the door open. There they were. Jack was standing there, handcuffed to the water pipes, with Clara on his back, trying to protect her from the freezing cold waters.

"Rose!" Jack cried, so happy to see her.

"You came back!" Said Clara, feeling tears of joy spike to her eyes at the sight of Rose. "You came back for us!"

"Jack! Clara!" Rose shouted, feeling tears spring forth from her eyes as she rushed over to them and hungrily began kissing Jack. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"

"Cal had Lovejoy put the money in our pockets!" said Clara quickly, not wanting Rose to keep thinking of them as thieves.

"I know, I know!" Rose cried, embracing her in a hug. Then she remembered the nutcracker. "Here, Clara, I found this!"

"My nutcracker!" Clara squealed blissfully, taking back her toy as she blinked back tears. "You found him! Thank you!" Rose just smiled and hugged her even tighter.

"Listen, Rose," Jack said, reminding her and Clara about the present situation. "You're going to have to find a spare key, alright? Look… look in that cabinet, right there!" He nodded towards a glass cabinet, where a variety of small keys were hanging on tiny hooks. She waded over to it.

"It's a little silver one, Rose!" Clara shouted. Rose flung the glass door to the cabinet open and started searching frantically.

"Th-these are all brass ones!" she screamed.

"Check right here, Rose!" Jack said, pointing to the desk. She rushed over to it, pulling out the entire drawer. "Rose," he suddenly said, in a much quieter tone. She turned to face him. "How did you find out we didn't do it?"

"I didn't," she said. "I just realized I already knew…"

"Then why did you come back?" Clara asked, shocked. "Why did you come back for us? The ship is sinking! You should be in one of the lifeboats!" Rose just smiled and replied,

"You guys jump, I jump."

Clara blinked back tears. Rose truly did love her and Jack. She was risking her safety in order to save them. Only someone who desperately loved another would be doing something as idiotic as she was doing, right now.

"Keep looking!" Jack shouted, realizing they were getting nowhere with just standing around.

"Oh!" Rose turned back to the drawer in her hands, throwing outs its contents as she searched for a duplicate of the key. "No key…" she whispered, now throwing the drawer itself aside. "There's no key!"

"Alright Rose, listen," said Jack, "you're going to have to find some help! It will be alright," he added, seeing the fearful look on her face at the thought of leaving them. She slowly nodded, realizing he was right. It broke her heart to leave them, but she had no choice. She had to go and find help if she was to save them.

"I'll be right back!" she said, kissing Jack fiercely before turning to give Clara a hug. She then splashed out.

"We'll just wait here!" Jack shouted.

"Please, hurry!" Clara screamed after her.

Rose splashed back down the corridor, hanging onto the walls to stay upright since the water now reached her waist. She glanced hastily around, trying to find someone, but there was no one it sight. She realized she would have to go back upstairs to find help. Hitching up the sides of her dress, she scrambled up a steel set of stairs that went up to D-Deck, her skirts trailing behind her like a giant snail.

"Hello? Is there anyone here?" she shouted once she was at the top of the stairs. "Hello?" She ran through the labyrinth of hallways, searching for someone, anyone. But her shouts reached no one. She was completely alone in the steerage halls.

"Is there anybody down here?" she kept screaming. "We need help! Hello!" Once again, the only sound was her voice echoing on the walls. "Dammit!" she snapped, running down another passageway until she reached a four way cross. She swirled around, looking down each one. There was no one in sight.

"Can anybody hear me?" she shouted, running down one at random. "Please! Hello? Hello!" The sound of running footsteps behind her made her whirl around her. An immigrant passenger was running towards her. "Oh, thank God!" she cried, relieved to have found someone at last. The immigrant ran past her, not at all interested in the woman. "Wait! Please, I need your help!" she cried, trying to stop him. "There's some people back here and-" The crazed man just pushed her away and kept on running, turning the corner. "Wait!" It was useless. The man didn't understand her.

"Hello?" she cried dejectedly down the corridor, feeling all hope fade from her body. She jumped as the lights started to flicker out again, and leaned against the wall, panting heavily. She felt as though the walls were closing in around her, wanting to drown her in the surrounding darkness. She shivered in her lightweight salmon pink coat. The ship groaned from the weight of the water, and the lights slowly flickered back on. Rose breathed a deep sigh of relief. She had never been so terrified in her entire life. The sound of footsteps approaching her from around the nearby corner snapped her out of her daze.

"Hello?" she croaked out, leaning on the wall for support as she walked towards the footsteps. A steward turned the corner, staring at her in shock over the small pile of life vests he was carrying.

"Miss, you shouldn't be here, now!" he cried, holding the lifebelts with one hand and grabbing her with the other. He started to drag her down the corridor.

"Wait! I need your help-" Rose started to protest.

"We'll get you topside," he interrupted, not listening. "This way, quickly!"

"Wait!" Rose cried, trying to tug away. "There's a man and a little girl down here, and they're trapped!"

"This way!" the steward said, still not listening to her. "There is no need to panic!"

"No, I'm not panicking! You're going the wrong way! Let go of me!" she screamed. The steward just continued to ramble on. "Listen!" she thundered, trying to grab him by the shoulder. The steward, surprised by her sudden outburst, turned around at the exact same moment. Rose gasped as she accidently hit him square in the nose, sending him stumbling backward. The steward, feeling something trickle down his face, gently touched his nose. Blood was started to seep out from it. He glared at Rose.

"To hell with you…" he mumbled angrily before running off. For a moment, Rose just stood there. No one was going to help her. She leaned against the wall, panting as the shock of this realization set in. No one was going to even try to help her rescue Jack and Clara. That meant she would have to save them herself, but how? What could she do? She looked around, searching for anything she could use to help them. She spied a glass case nearby, containing a fire-axe inside. That could work. She quickly reeled in the fire hose beside it, and used it to shatter the glass casing. She grabbed the axe, and ran back down the corridor, praying that she wasn't too late.

She froze when she reached the stairwell. In the short time she was gone, the water had flooded the last few stairs. She slowly went down, terrified out of her mind. She bent down, needing to crouch to look along the corridor to see the room where Jack and Clara were trapped in. A spark blew out nearby, making her jumped. Her heart was pounding like crazy. She had to be nuts. To go back down there surely meant death, but she had to risk it. Jack and Clara were depending on her. Setting the axe down, Rose threw off her coat, knowing it would only restrict her movement, now. She took a deep breath as she grabbed the axe, and then plunged into the water.

"Oh!" she squealed, feeling the iciness of the water hit her. She grimaced in pain. The water was colder than she had imagined, and was literally stabbing her. She shook her head, knowing she had to stay focused. Using the pipes above her to make sure she didn't drown, Rose slowly started to wade her way through the water with the axe. It was hard on her, both mentally and physically. Her arms were throbbing, it was hard to keep hold of the heavy axe, and the other was helping her force her way through the water from the pipes. The groans that the ship was making from the pressure of the water just made her even more nervous. At last, she reached the room.

"Jack! Clara!" she cried, throwing the door open. Jack, still supporting Clara on his back, was now standing on top of the desk, having floated near them, in order to stay out of the water. They both were relieved to see she was back.

"Rose!" Clara said, happily. "You're back!" Rose just held up the axe.

"Will this work?" she asked Jack, praying that it would. She didn't have time to find something else. Jack knew that, too.

"I guess we'll find out!" he said, trying to stay calm. "Clara, give me your hand! Come on!"

Clara stretched out her hand that was in the handcuff beside his. Rose started to get closer to chop them away from the pipe.

"Wait, wait!" Jack said suddenly. "Try a couple of practice swings over there!" he nodded to the cabinet she had searched through. He didn't want him or Clara to lose one of their hands. Rose nodded, and waded over to it. Rose took a deep breath, and swung the axe into the glass door of the wooden cabinet. "Good!" Jack encouraged as she tugged the blade out of the hole she made. "Now, try to hit the _same_ mark again, Rose!"

"Come on, you can do it!" Clara shouted, knowing that she could. Very slowly, Rose raised the axe again, and then hurtled it back into the door of the cabinet. The new mark was at least four inches away from the first. They all gulped at the sight of the far apart marks.

"Okay, that's enough practice!" Jack said quickly, masking his fear from his voice. His hopes of him and Clara leaving this room with both their hands were much slimmer now, but he couldn't let Rose or Clara know that. Rose would panic with worry, and Clara would start to cry. The tension from both scenarios put together would undoubtedly lead to either him or Clara leaving this room without one of their legs attached to their body.

"Come on, Rose!" Clara said as she hastily swam back over to them. "You can do it!" She and Jack both lined up their ends of the cuffs so that the quarter inches of the thin, silver chain, was visible for Rose to see.

"Listen, just hit it really hard, and really fast!" Jack advised as Rose started to raise the axe high above her head. "Wait! Open your hands up a little more!"

"Like that?" Rose spluttered out, doing as he said. He nodded.

"Right! Listen, Rose, I trust you!"

"Me too, Rose!" Clara said, trying to sound as calm as Jack. "I trust you, too!" The three of squeezed their eyes shut, fearing what would happen next.

"Go!" Jack shouted. Rose took a deep breath, and hurtled the axe downward. The sound of metal hitting metal echoed through the room. Jack, Rose, and Clara's eyes snapped open. There wasn't a drop of blood to be seen. The only thing damaged was the handcuff. One end was dangling off Jack's wrists, and the other off of Clara's. They all whooped in joy.

"You did it, Rose!" Clara shouted as Jack pulled her into a grateful kiss.

"Come on, let's go!" Jack said, slowly maneuvering his way off the desk. "Clara, hold on tight!"

"I am!" she shouted, wrapping the arm that was holding her nutcracker around his neck as well as he slowly jumped into the freezing water next to Rose.

"Oh, shit!" he cried, shaking with pain when he felt the temperature of the water. "This _is _cold!" Clara clutched his neck tightly with her arms as her legs wrapped around his body, terrified of the frigid cold ocean water beneath her more than ever now from his comment. "Holy shit! Shit! Shit!" Jack shouted every time he moved as he followed Rose out the door. Rose was about to lead them back to the stairway she had come from, when she froze. The water had risen considerably in the past few minutes, and there were only a few inches of the staircase still visible.

"This is the way out!" she screamed, not believing how fast the water level had risen.

"We'll have to find another way!" Jack shouted, supporting Clara with one hand so he could grab Rose's hand, and lead her in the opposite direction. "Come on!"

* * *

><p>In Lifeboat Six, Ruth stared helplessly back at the dying liner as the tiny collapsible rowed away. She felt terrible. Her daughter, her only daughter, was still on board that ship! It was sinking, and at an alarming rate! Minutes ago, the bow had only started to tilt slightly downwards. Now, It was at least a quarter of the way down, and was rapidly filling up with water. She could see the people on the decks running across it frantically in panic…<p>

Ruth shut her eyes to fight back tears. She knew she had never been the best mother to Rose. She knew she had never once considered how she felt. She knew she had been too concerned about their wealth and social image to care. If she could, she would turn back the clock. She would go back and correct every mistake she had ever made when it came to Rose, starting with Caledon Hockley. She had always known that Rose had detested him, even before they were even engaged, but she hadn't cared. If she survived this, she would find her daughter, and let her decide what she wanted to do with her life. If she survived this, she would be the mother she should have been to her for the past seventeen years…

An explosion rocketed Ruth out of her thoughts, and her eyes snapped open. Another of Boxhall's distress rockets had just been released. It lit up the ship in a vision of white.

"Now there's somethin' you don't see every day…" said Molly Brown.

* * *

><p>Back on the boat deck of the ship, Cal was pushing his way through the distressed crowd, frantically searching for Rose in the chaos. The order that had originally been established by the officers was gone, and panic had ensued. All around him, wives were screaming, trying to claw onto their husbands in order to stay with them, and children were howling, scared and saddened that they were leaving their father's behind as they were forced with their mother's into the lifeboats. He hardly spared any of them a second glance. He was too desperate to find Rose. As he ran across the decks, he spied Lovejoy making his way toward him.<p>

"Lovejoy!" he shouted, pushing some men aside to get to his bodyguard. "Any luck?" He shook his head.

"No, she's not on the starboard side, either." Cal scowled.

"We're running out of time!" he growled as he glanced over at Lightoller, who was currently loading the nearest boat. "This strutting martinet isn't letting any men on at all!"

"There's one on the other side that's letting men on," said Lovejoy.

"Well, then that's our play," said Cal, nodding to his suggestion. "We'll need some insurance, first. Come on!"

They shoved their way back through the crowd, desperate to get back to the Millionaire Suite. As they ran, they passed an elderly man by the name of Isidor Strauss. He was desperately trying to convince his wife to get into a lifeboat.

"Please, Ida," he begged, gently taking her hand. "Get into the boat."

"No!" she objected, yanking her hand away. She absolutely refused to leave her husband here on this ship to die, while she cowardly got into a lifeboat in order live. "We've been together for forty years," she emphasized. "And where you go, I go. Don't argue with me, Isidor!" she added sharply, seeing him open his mouth to protest. "You know it does no good."

Isidor just sobbed and embraced her tightly, feeling tears come to his eyes. He didn't even glance up when Mr. Andrews shoved past him. He was beyond pissed. The boats were being launched half full! There weren't even enough boats for all the passengers, and the officers were sending out the boats not even filled up? He had to make sure that changed right now. He maneuvered his way over to Lightoller, who was still loading up the nearest lifeboat.

"Will you hold the boat a moment?" he could hear one woman ask Lightoller. "I just need to run back to my-"

Lightoller ignored her words as he grabbed her, and heaved her in the boat. "Stay down!" he ordered the passengers, before turning the crewmen next to him. "She's the last! Now, prepare to low-"

"Mr. Lightoller!" Andrews interrupted, finally squeezing his way through the crowd. "Why are the boats being launched half full?"

"Not now, Mr. Andrews!" Lightoller said, trying to brush him aside. Mr. Andrews grabbed him roughly by the shoulders, and spun him around so he could he the lifeboats that were rowing away from the ship.

"There! Look!" he shouted. "Twenty or so, in a boat built for over sixty-five! And I saw one boat with only twelve! Twelve!"

"Well, we weren't sure of the weight, Mr. Andrews," he replied. "These boats may buckle…" Mr. Andrews finally lost his hold on his temper.

"Rubbish!" he snapped. "They were tested in Belfast with the weight of seventy men! Now, fill these boats, Mr. Lightoller, for God's sake, man!" Lightoller stared at him. He wasn't used to being ordered about. He slowly turned to take in the scene around him. Mr. Andrews was right. The boats out there only had twenty or so passengers, and there were hundreds of people around him, still waiting to be rescued. He had to fill the boats!

"Pl-please!" he shouted out into the crowd. "I need more woman and children!"

* * *

><p>"Come this way, please," said a lone steward in the corridors of E-deck, assisting some steerage passengers that were trying to find the main stairwell. "All the way down th–"<p>

The groan of a man in pain following the banging of a door suddenly echoed across the hall from a door nearby. Everyone in the hallway froze as the door jostled slightly, fearing that water would start to pour out from it. There was a momentary pause…

CRASH! The doorframe splintered apart as the door blasted open. Jack staggered out, soaked to the bone, as he rubbed his shoulder. Rose and Clara stumbled out behind him.

"Big brother!" Clara cried, rushing over to him. With the hand not hugging her nutcracker, she hugged him, ignoring the chills she was getting from his wet clothes. "Big brother, are you hurt?"

"No, I'm fine, Clair," he assured her. "What about you?"

"I'm okay," she replied. He turned to Rose, worried about her, too.

"Yes, me too."

"Here!" said the steward, shocked by what they had just done to the door. "What do you think you're doing?" Jack, Rose, and Clara ignored him. Jack scooped up Clara securely in one of his arms, and grabbed Rose's hand with the other. He started to run with them down the corridor. "You'll have to pay for that, you know!" the steward shouted after them. "That's White Star Line property!"

"SHUT UP!" The three of them shouted, not bothering to stop walking as they looked over their shoulders. And he did.

They ran down the corridors, following the steerage passengers heading aft. Within moments, they were in stuck in the middle of cramped crowd. Jack readjusted Clara in his arms and squeezed Roses' hand even tighter.

"Hold on tight!" he shouted over the swarming voices around them. "Don't let go of me, neither of you!" Rose and Clara barely had time to nod when he started to run, pushing his way through the crowd in order to get through. He only stopped running when he spied a gate. He attempted to open it, but it was locked. "Sir!" he shouted, seeing a steward on the other side. "Sir, could you open this up?"

"Sir, please, it's flooding down here!" Clara screamed. It was no good. The man was too far away to hear them. Jack set her down in order to rattle the gates, desperate to get his attention.

"Can anybody hear me?" He shouted. "Help us, please!" As he continued to shout out beyond the gate, an Irish woman saw Rose, shivering from the cold in her wet, thin dress.

"Here, cover yourself," she said, taking off the blanket she had around her, and placing it over her shoulders.

"Thank you," said Rose, snuggling herself deep into the warmth of the blanket as her husband handed Clara his flask.

"It'll take the chill away," he explained. Clara took it eagerly, and tried to take a big gulp, thinking it was hot coffee or tea. She nearly choked as she swallowed the strange, foreign liquid, and started coughing frantically. She blinked, and everyone around her started to double. She weakly tugged on Jack's pants, swaying unsteadily on her feet from intoxication.

"I don't feel too good…" she moaned, feeling the room spin as she sank down to her knees.

"Clara?" Jack said, concerned, as he turned away from the gate, not having seen anything. "Clara!" he knelt down next to her, shocked by her sudden sickness. "What's wrong?"

"My fault!" said the man, hastily taking the flask away from her. "I thought she'd only take a sip!" Jack was furious.

"What did you give her?" he demanded. The man looked sheepish.

"Just a bit of whiskey…"

"You gave my sister _alcohol?" _Jack was about ready to pounce on him, when Clara abruptly threw up.

"Oh!" Rose cried, helping Jack move her to the side of the corridor where no one would step on her. For several minutes, they both just knelt next to Clara, brushing her strands of blonde hair out of her face. She eventually wiped her mouth on the sleeve of her dress before gazing up at Jack and Rose.

"I'm okay," she said weakly, hugging her nutcracker to her chest.

"You sure?" Jack asked her. "We can stop. If we keep going, you could wind getting sick again…" she slowly shook her head.

"No, I'm fine, big brother…" she gave them a small smile to emphasize that she was really okay.

"Well, alright, come on!" Jack scooped her up again and started running down the halls once more, Rose hot at his heels. They were at the E-Deck stairwell seconds later. If they had thought the hallways had been cramped, it was nothing compared to this. The stairs themselves were impossible to see, with all the people squished on them, fighting their way to the locked gates that the stewards, equipped with guns and fireman axes, were guarding on the other side. The noise was deafening. Immigrants, not understanding what was going on, screamed in various languages in attempt to make light of the situation, and those that spoke English tried to thrust open and rattle the gates, desperate to be freed. The three of them stared dejectedly up at the mob.

"You can't keep us locked up down here like animals!" they could hear Tommy shout to the stewards. "The ship's bloody sinking!"

"Stand back!" one of the stewards shouted, taking out a ring of keys. "Bring forward the women! Women, only!" he shouted, unlocking the gates. However, many men at the front of the gates didn't speak English, and therefore couldn't understand them. Seeing the gates open, they tried to swarm out, desperate for freedom, but the stewards shoved and pushed them back inside.

"No men!" cried another steward. "No men!" The stewards shut the gates again to stop the stampede. Tommy let out a strangled cry to the heavens.

"For God's sake, man!" he screamed. "There are women and children down here! Let us out so we can have a chance!" The crewmen just stared at each other in shock. They had let the situation spiral out of control, and now they had a panicked mob on their hands. Realizing he was getting nowhere with these dimwitted idiots, Tommy started to go back down.

"Jack! Clara!" came a voice behind them and Rose. They all turned around.

"Helga!" Jack cried, relieved to see she was safe as Clara climbed out of his arms to hug her.

"Where's Fabrizio?" she asked. Before she could reply, Tommy came running down the steps.

"Jack! Clara!"

"Tommy, can we get out?" Jack shouted over the roar the crowd. He shook his head frantically.

"It's hopeless that way!"

"Well, whatever we do, we've got to do it fast!" Jack answered as Fabrizio came running out of one of the crowded corridors toward them.

"Jack! Clara!" he shouted, overjoyed to see them.

"Fabrizio!" Jack shouted, hugging him tightly as though they were brothers.

"You're alright!" said Clara, relieved, as she joined into their hug. Fabrizio was like another older brother to Clara, just as how he was practically a brother to Jack. They all let go of each other within seconds.

"The boats are all gone!" Fabrizio shouted, scared shitless.

"The whole place is flooding! We've got to get outta here!" said Jack.

"There's _niente_ this way!" he said, nodding down the corridor he had just come from.

"Then let's go this way!" Clara said urgently, pointing to another corridor. "Come on!"

"_Aspetta!" _Fabrizio cried, turning to face Helga and her parents, determined for them to come, too. "Everyone, you come with me!" he said desperately. "We go! The boats, they're going!" Helga was the only one that understood him.

"Can we go?" she pleaded, gazing up at her father. He shook his head, and said something angrily in Norwegian. Everyone was nervous. They didn't have to know Norwegian to know that the man in front of them wasn't planning to go anywhere.

"Come!" said Fabrizio, shouting at him so he could understand. "We go in the boat! _Capito!_ We go in the boat, this is sink!" Jack, Rose, Clara, and Tommy watched sadly as he gruffly shook his head again. Helga stared at her Fabrizio with tears in her eyes. She couldn't leave her family. Fabrizio's heart shattered.

"Helga, _por favor! _You come with me now! I'm lucky! It's my _destino_ to go to America, please!" She took a hesitant step toward him, but her father pulled her back. She gazed between them with tears cascading down her cheeks, not sure what to do. Then she grabbed Fabrizio, and pulled him into a heartwarming kiss to say goodbye. When they broke apart, Fabrizio's eyes were shining with tears of his own.

"Come on, we've gotta go!" Jack said, grabbing his wrist.

"I'll never forget you!" Fabrizio said to her, drinking in her beautiful face for the last time before turning around, and running with Jack and the others down the corridor.

* * *

><p>Back in the Millionaire Suite, Cal was digging frantically through his safe, stuffing as much money as he could down the pockets of his black overcoat. He was about to close it, when he remembered the necklace. He jammed it in his pockets as well before turning to face Lovejoy.<p>

"I make my own luck," he declared, holding up one of the wad of bills. Lovejoy smirked, and revealed the revolver he had hidden in the inner pockets of his suit.

"So do I."

With a grin, Cal shut the safe, spun the dial, and exited the room with him.

* * *

><p>Jack, Rose, Clara, Fabrizio, and Tommy ran aimlessly down the third-class corridors. They were lost, and had no idea how to get to the upper decks.<p>

"This way!" Jack shouted, leading them down yet another corridor to the left, shoving himself past a man who was doing his best to console his wife, who was crying hysterically in fear a few feet away as she sat upon their luggage. They weren't the only ones starting to panic. Not too far away, an Arabian man was holding a pocket phrase book beside a sign, and was shouting out translations from it in his native language to his wife and daughters, but his hands were shaking, and he was having trouble trying to focus on what the words meant in all of the confusion going on around them. Both groups were truly pitiful sights. If they had time, Jack, Rose, and Clara knew they ought to try and help them, but every second counted, and they couldn't waste a single moment until they were all safe.

"Here! Up here!" Jack shouted, spying a small set of iron stairs. They all ran up. At the top, there was another gate. A small group of third-class passengers was clustered around it, and were all trying to plead with the two stewards on the other side to open the gate.

"Just go back to the main stairwell," one of them kept shouting, "and everything will be sorted out there! Go back down the main stairwell! It will all get sorted out back there! Just go back to the main stairwell!" Jack refused to accept this. He handed Clara off to Rose before pushing himself through the mini crowd to reach the front.

"Open the gate!" he said sternly, gripping the iron wrought bars of the gate tightly with both hands.

"Go back down the main stairwell!" the steward shouted back.

"Open the gate, right now!" he demanded.

"Open it!" Clara cried miserably. "Please! This place is flooding!"

"Go back down the main stairwell like I told you!" With a hopeless sigh, Jack turned around to face his companions. When he saw the look of desperation on not only their faces, but also on the faces of everyone else there, too, Jack finally lost his cool.

"Goddamn it!" he screamed, startling some of the immigrants with his estranged cry as he shook the gates in angry frustration. "Son of a bitch!"

"Stop that!" the steward shouted, scared of this insane man in front of him. Jack ignored him and ran over to a nearby bench that was bolted securely to the floor of the landing.

"Fabri, Tommy, give me a hand!" he shouted, trying to pry it loose. Rose realized his intentions and quickly set Clara down in order to help clear a path to the gate.

"Move aside! Move aside!" she shouted, gently pushing everyone else there toward the walls next to the gate. Clara tried to help, too.

"Out of the way!" she screamed. "Out of the way!"

"Pull!" Jack cried, and he, Tommy, and Fabrizio started to yank it free from its bolted shears. "Pull!"

"Put that down!" the steward nearly shrieked when he saw they had managed to somehow free it from the bolts. "Put that down!"

"Keep moving!" Clara screamed, she and Rose ignoring his shouts of protest as they continued to shove people out of the way. "Get out of the way!" Within moments, everyone except her and Rose were out of the way. Rose instantly scooped Clara up in her arms, and moved against the wall with the other passengers to get out of the way for Jack, Tommy, and Fabrizio.

"One!" Jack cried over the roar of the steward's frantic shouts as they held the bench up against the locked gate.

"P-put that down!" the man shouted, taking out a revolver to shoot them with shaking hands.

"Two!" Jack screamed, ignoring the sight of the gun.

"St-stop that!" the steward protested, desperately trying to figure out how to work the gun.

"Three!" They all charged at the gate with the wooden bench, ramming against it with all their might. The gate shuddered from the force of the bench, but it still remained shut. "Again!" They hurtled the bench against it once more. This time, the gate literally ripped loose from its hinges and fell outward, just missing the steward by mere inches.

"Let's go!" Jack shouted. He took Clara back from Rose, grabbed hold of Rose's hand, and led the way out into the now open corridor. The steward still attempted to stop them.

"Y-you can't go up there!" he stuttered, shocked that they had managed to get the gate open. "You can't do this!" Tommy had enough of his jabbering, and punched him squarely in the nose as he and Fabrizio followed Jack, Rose, and Clara out.

* * *

><p>Back on the boat decks, the situation was spiraling out of the officer's control. People, regardless of age, class, gender, and nationality, were flocking desperately towards the lifeboats with their luggage. It was nearly impossible to make a single voice be heard in all the wails of distress. People were shoving their way to the boats, trying to climb aboard them, despite being completely full. Some were even jumping aboard as the boats were being lowered because they were so anxious to be saved. Lightoller was having difficultly trying to get the situation back under control.<p>

"Keep order here!" he thundered, trying to push the crowd away from Lifeboat Fourteen, which was preparing to lower away. "Get back! Get back!"

An immigrant man, not understanding him, made a mad dash for the boat. He accidentally stumbled into a woman, who went flying into the side of the collapsible. She screamed, trying to pull herself into it.

"Hold onto her!" Lightoller shouted when the crewmembers from the deck directly below grabbed hold of her. "Pull her in!" They did as he said, and pulled her safely back onto the ship. In the rowboat, one crewman decided to matters into his own hands. He seized one of the oars, and used it as a pole to push the still panicking crowd away from the boat. Seeing this, Lightoller began taking drastic measures of his own to silence the crowd.

"Get back, I say!" he roared, taking out his pistol from the pocket of his coat, and pointing it at the crowd. "Or, I'll shoot you all like dogs!" The chaos came to an abrupt halt from the sight of the gun. "Keep order here!" he warned, slowly lowering his gun. "Keep order, I say!" The crowd didn't move as he turned around to face Fifth-Officer Lowe, who was in the boat, and was trying to calm its passengers. "Mr. Lowe," he said, discreetly filling his empty pistol with bullets, "man this boat."

"Right!" Lowe replied to him before turning back to the boats' passengers. "Is everybody alright? Nobody panic!"

Meanwhile, Cal and Lovejoy were running madly through the crowd to reach the final lifeboat that the officer allowing men to board was currently filling. They knew they had to hurry. They didn't intend to die. Not tonight, that is. When they finally reached it, the officer shoved them back, not allowing them to board it.

"Stay back!" he ordered. "Too full!" Cal growled as the officer turned back around to send out the order to lower the boat.

"We're too late!" He snapped furiously. Lovejoy shook his head.

"No, there are more boats down the front," he reassured him. Then he nodded to the officer. "Stay with this one, Murdoch. He seems to be quite practical." Cal was about to nod, when a horrified scream behind him made him whirl around in surprise.

"Stop lowering!" Murdoch shouted, terribly scared. "Cut the falls!"

Cal leaned over the side of the railing just in time to see Lifeboat Thirteen being pushed aft from the discharged water that was being pumped out of the ship. Its inhabitants screamed, fearing for their lives, as they wound up underneath the boat Murdoch had just ordered to stop lowering, Lifeboat Fifteen. A stoker was desperately trying to saw through the aft fall ropes in order to free them while the passengers and other crewmen tried to hold up Lifeboat Fifteen in order to prevent it from crushing them all to death. Then the sound of several gunshots rang through the air, and Cal turned to see Fifth-Officer Lowe firing his gun up in the air to calm the people on the A-Deck in order to stop them from jumping onto his boat, Lifeboat Fourteen, as it was lowered into the water.

"Stay back, you lot! Just stay back!" he shouted to them, still firing his gun. "Stay back, the lot of you! Just stay back!"

"It's starting to fall apart…" Cal said in horror, backing away from the railing. "We don't have much time…"

"Murdoch!" said Lovejoy suddenly, seeing him start to walk away from the empty davits of Lifeboat Fifteen to head to the bow, where there were still plenty of boats that needed to be filled. Cal spied him, too.

"Keep looking for Rose!" he ordered his bodyguard before running to catch up with the officer. "Mr. Murdoch!"

"Ah, Mr. Hockley!" Murdoch replied, before turning to some other crewmen. "You two! With me, now!" he ordered.

"Murdoch, I'm a business man, as you know," said Cal quickly, making sure to keep Murdoch's attention on him. "And I have a business proposition for you…"

* * *

><p>Jack, Clara, Rose, Tommy, and Fabrizio hurtled forth onto the boat deck on the port side of the ship from the doors leading back to the small stairwell they had just come from. They stared, horrified, at all the empty davits in front of them.<p>

"The boats are all gone!" Clara screamed, hugging her nutcracker tightly as Jack put her down.

"No, there has to be more!" Said Rose, looking around frantically for any other boat. Then she saw Colonel Gracie, walking hurriedly from the other side of the ship while escorting two ladies from first-class. She scrambled over to him, and the others followed.

"Colonel!" she cried, "Colonel, are there any boats on that side?" He shook his head.

"No, miss. But there are a couple of boats all the way forward, "he said, pointing towards the front of the ship. "This way, I'll lead-"

Jack didn't wait for him to finish. He simply grabbed Rose and Clara's hands, and started running with them in the direction Gracie had pointed. Tommy and Fabrizio raced after them. As they ran, they passed the band. They, by some miracle, were still playing their instruments despite the chaos surrounding them.

"What's the use?" they heard the man playing the cello mumble to his companions as they finished their current song. "Nobody's listening to us, anymore." Wallace Hartley merely shrugged in reply.

"Well, they don't listen to us at dinner, either," he pointed out. Then he brought his violin back up to his chin. "Come on, let's play. It'll keep us warm." The others nodded. _"Orpheus."_ As they started the song, Tommy couldn't help but laugh.

"Music to drown by…" he mumbled, chuckling to himself as they passed them. "Now I know I'm in first-class…"

* * *

><p>Cal followed Murdoch and his team of crewmen down to the forward part of the A-Deck, where there were still a few boats left to be launched. Bruce Ismay was there, trying to help lower them into the water. The crowds were sparse here, which confused Murdoch.<p>

"Where is everyone?" he asked a nearby crewman.

"They're all still aft, sir," he said back, nodding in the direction they had just come from. Murdoch nodded. It made sense. That side still had a ways to go before submerging, whereas this side was slowly starting to fill up with water. He was about to help some other nearby passengers aboard the collapsible in front of him, when Cal seized his arm, and turned him around to face him. He pulled out two wads of bills from the pockets of his coat.

"We have an understanding, then, Mr. Murdoch?" he asked, tucking the money into waistcoat pockets of Murdoch's coat. His eyes widened at the sight of the money, and he eagerly nodded. Cal grinned, and was about to file into the boat with the other men, when he saw Lovejoy sprinting across the bridge to reach him.

"I found her," he told him. "She's on the other side. Waiting for a boat, with _them."_ Cal glared at the thought. She had actually gone back! She had rescued them! He wanted to scream in rage.

"Anyone else then?" said Murdoch suddenly. Lovejoy nodded for him to get aboard. Cal turned, and stared at the boat longingly. "Anyone else?" Murdoch asked, staring at him. Cal didn't know what to do. Get on the boat and risk losing Rose to that gutter rat and mouse from steerage, or go back and get her and risk his own chance at escape?

"…Goddamn it all to hell!" he cried, turning back around, and racing across the bridge.

"Shit!" Lovejoy mumbled as he followed after him.

Bruce Ismay, who had seen the entire exchange, quickly climbed into the boat, taking the seat that had been intended for the steel tycoon. Murdoch was about to order the boat to lower, when he saw him. He just stared at Ismay in disgust, but Ismay didn't meet his gaze.

"Take them down." He ordered, glaring at the coward.

* * *

><p>Jack, Rose, Clara, Tommy, and Fabrizio gathered into the crowd of people trying to reach Lifeboat Two, which was being filled by Lightoller.<p>

"Women and children only!" he shouted. "No men! Let the women through! This way, madam! Let the women and children through!" Clara was shaking in fear and anxiety, and she grabbed Jack's hand tightly. She could see Lightoller shoving man after man away as they tried to board the boat, only allowing the women and children to pass him. She was beyond scared. If he wasn't letting men to get on, then that meant that Jack, Tommy, and Fabrizio couldn't board. She and Rose could, but not them. Jack seemed to read her thoughts, and turned to face Tommy and Fabrizio.

"You better check the other side!" he shouted over the screams around them. "Go!" They nodded and scrambled away.

Clara barely noticed them as they left. Her only focus was on the people around her as they waited to get into the lifeboat. She could see the tearful women, waving and blowing kisses to their husbands as they climbed into the boat with their children while they cried bitterly. The children were even worse than their mothers from the separation…

"Daddy!" cried one little girl as she hugged her father, trying to stay with him as her mother and sister got in the boat.

"Give her to me!" Lightoller demanded, knowing there wasn't time to waste. She fought against him as he pulled her away from her father.

"Daddy, no!"

"It'll be fine, darling," her father said, trying to calm her down as Lightoller plopped her between her mother and sister. "Don't you worry!"

"No, daddy! I want to stay with you!"

"It's goodbye for a little while!" her father said, doing his best to mask his sadness from his wife and children, knowing he would never see them again. "Only for a little while! There will be another boat for the daddies! This boat is for the mommies and the children! Now, you and Susan hold mommy's hands and be good little girls!" His children nodded as they cried miserably. Their father smiled, and they tried to smile back as they waved goodbye. They didn't realize that beneath that smile, their father was choking back his own tears. "Daddy loves you both! He'll see you soon!" Then he turned to his wife. "Take care of them, Martha! I love you all!" The woman couldn't hold back her tears as she nodded.

Clara, who had been watching this exchange from the family, turned to face Jack and Rose.

"I'm not going without you two!" Clara cried, grasping Jack's hand tightly. She wouldn't go. Not without them. She didn't want to end up like that poor little family in the boat, wondering whether Jack and Rose had somehow successfully gotten into a lifeboat or not.

"No, you have to go! Now!" Jack said urgently, gently shaking her shoulders in order to try to make her see reason. He wouldn't allow his only little sister to die from wanting to stay with him and Rose.

"Jack and I will be fine!" Rose whispered, hugging her comfortingly. "Now, you get on the boat!"

"No, Rose!" Clara wept, burying her face into Jack's shirt. "No! I won't go!"

"Get in the boat, Clara," said Jack, squeezing her hand tightly. "Go on!"

"No, Jack!" said Clara, hugging him even tighter. She wouldn't leave him. Him or Rose. They meant everything to her. Their love itself meant everything! If they died, then the song she had left in the safe back in the Millionaire Suite for them would have no meaning! There was no purpose to any song if the people whom the song was dedicated for were dead! It couldn't be finished if either one of them, or both of them were dead! She would rather die with them on this ship, knowing they would be just as much in love at the very end and her song would go on with them into heaven, than leave, not knowing if they were together or not and her song was now dead, too.

"Yes!" Jack protested, pulling away from her slightly to look her in the eye. "Get on the boat, Clara!"

"Yes," came a new voice. "Get on the boat, child!" The three of them turned. Cal had appeared out of nowhere, and was staring at them. Clara moved behind Jack, terrified. He scooped her up as he raised his arm out protectively in front of Rose, guarding her from him. Cal hardly spared him a glance.

"My god…" he continued, taking in Rose's wet, disheveled form. "Look at you… you look a fright! Here!" He took the blanket she had on over her shoulders off, and threw it over to Jack, who used it to wrap Clara up in as Cal proceeded to drape her in his black coat. "Put this on!" She merely shrugged into it. She was too surprised by his generosity to say anything, though she did admit she was slightly warmer with it now. He tried to lovingly stroke her hair, but she shook her head at him and gazed back at Jack and Clara.

"Go on!" Jack said, trying to convince to get in the boat again. "Rose and I will get the next one!"

"No!" she shrieked, hugging her nutcracker tightly as hot tears streamed down her cheeks. "Not without you and Rose!"

"We'll be alright!" said Rose, gently massaging her back in an effort to help Jack calm her down.

"Listen, we'll both be fine," Jack said with a reassuring smile, stroking her blonde hair. "You, Rose, and I are survivors, alright?"

"Don't worry about us!" Rose added as she kissed her cheek. "Now, go on, get on!"

Cal had had enough. This child's tantrum was delaying his chance to get off this blasted ship with Rose! He could care less about what would happen to the gutter rat or the mouse, but it was clear to him that Rose wasn't going to leave until the stupid girl got on the boat. He quickly hatched up a brilliant lie.

"I have an arrangement with an officer on the other side of the ship," he said quickly, keeping his voice low so no one else would catch his words. Jack, Rose, and Clara turned to him, surprised by this revelation. "Jack, Rose, and I can get off safely. All of us."

Jack and Rose just stared at each other. They couldn't trust him, they were quite certain of that. They were smart enough to smell the horrible lie in his words. They both knew there was no arrangement, and they both were about to turn away from him, but then they both saw the tiny sparks of hope in Clara's eyes. She was only a child, and it was natural that she wanted to believe his words, but she was still unsure. Knowing how he had been to her and Jack since they had met him, she wasn't sure if he was lying or not. Jack and Rose glanced at each other and nodded. They would have to pretend that what Cal had said was the truth. It was the only way to get her in the boat.

"There, you see?" Jack said, plastering a fake smile to his lips as he looked back at Clara. "We've got our own boat to catch!"

"Go on," Rose added, pretending to be overjoyed as she gently patted her cheek. "Hurry up so we can get going. We'll both see you in New York!"

"Once we're out of this mess," Jack said, hugging her tightly, "you, me, and Rose are all going to go to Santa Monica, you hear? We're going to ride that roller coaster on the pier at least a hundred times until we throw up!"

"We'll ride those horses right on the beach!" said Rose, going along with his dreamy future. "Right in the surf!"

"And eat ice cream?" Clara whispered. "And drink the cheap beer?" Then nodded, still smiling.

"Absolutely!" Jack said. "You'll eat lots of chocolate ice cream at that ice cream parlor you love, and we'll listen as you play the piano in it while chugging down at least fifty gallons of beer, clapping and cheering whenever you finish any song request from the other customers for ten cents!" Clara gave them a small smile. She liked that idea.

"Come on, hurry," Cal urged, making sure to keep his tone pleasant so as not to make her suspicious. "The boat's almost full."

"This way, little one! Come aboard, step lively!" Lightoller said, having spotted her. He tried to pry her away from Jack, but she wouldn't go without one last fight. She reached out, grabbing his, and Rose's hands together in her free one. Jack smiled, and kissed her forehead as he swept a strand of her blonde hair out of her eyes.

"Don't worry," he whispered gently. "I'm a Chippewa Falls Dawson, remember? I'll be okay! I promise!"

"I love you, big brother!" she cried, feeling fresh tears starting to form in her eyes. Jack had to blink back tears of his own when he heard her say this.

"I love you, too, Clair," he said as he squeezed her hand tightly. "I love you so much!"

"And I love you, too, Rose!" she added, turning to look at her as her tears began to run down her cheeks. "I love you, too! You're like the sister I never got to have!" Rose nearly sobbed at her proclamation.

"And I love you back!" she said while patting her cheek tenderly. "I love you as though you are my own sister, as well!" Clara smiled, and was about to say one last farewell, when Lightoller interrupted them.

"Clear the rail, please," he ordered, forcing Jack and Rose's hands to break away from Clara's little one as he pushed them away from the railing. Clara just stood in the middle of the lifeboat; unable to comprehend that this was really happening.

"Sit down, little one!" Lightoller said when he saw her before forcing her down in the last open seat in the boat. Then he turned to the crewmen standing by. "All right, lower away!"

Jack and Rose gazed lovingly down at Clara as the boat started to descend. Cal saw their expressions and smirked.

"You two are good liars," he commented, thoroughly amused by the touching scene he had just witnessed.

"Almost as good as you," Jack said, not really listening to him. He wanted to focus on Clara in the boat. He couldn't waste this last view of her.

"There's no arrangement, is there Cal?" Rose asked, glancing over at him.

"Oh no, there is." He assured her. He paused to look down at Clara in the boat. "Not that Jack here will benefit much from it…"

Jack and Rose stared incredulously at him, not believing their ears. Had he really just said that? Was he really so desperate to make Rose his wife, that he would go so far as to orphan a defenseless child? Cal felt their stares, and turned his face so they could see his smirk.

"I always win, Jack, Rose," he said smugly. "One way or another…"

Jack and Rose glanced at each other. So that was his plan. To allow Jack to drown on the ship while he and Rose rowed safely away in a lifeboat. Rose started to sob, and leaned her head into Jack's shoulder while looking back down at Clara. Jack wrapped his arm around her before looking helplessly back down at Clara. He was screwed, he knew he was screwed, but he just stood there, taking in the cute features of his perfect little sister for the very last time. He had to memorize everything about her. From the way her hair was blowing in the breeze, right now, to how tightly she was clutching her nutcracker. He began to pray that she would be all right from now on. She was going to be orphaned all over again, only this time, she would have no one to turn to…

Everything was surreal, to Clara at least. The moment Lightoller had forced her to sit down in the boat, everything and everyone around her seemed to start moving in slow motion. She could see and read the lips of the officer as he ordered the boat to lower away. The sobs from the two little girls next to her were practically distorted to her ears from the blood pounding in her skull, and they were waving their arms slowly over their heads to say goodbye to their father. Even the crewmen, who, in reality, were racing against the clock to lower the boat as quickly as possible, seemed to be moving as slowly as snails in her eyes. She gazed back up at Jack and Rose.

They looked positively miserable, as though they knew this would be the last time they would ever see her. Tears were gathering in the corners of their eyes, and their linked hands were trembling. Their expressions were confusing her. Why did they look so upset? They had promised her that everything was going to be okay, which meant it would be. They had promised that the three of them were going to fulfill their dreams in Santa Monica! Cal had promised that they were all going to get off the ship together… weren't they? Clara glanced over at him. He was smirking, almost looking happy that she was leaving. A horrible thought crept into her mind when she saw his smirk. No… he couldn't be that evil! She stared back at Jack and Rose, not wanting to believe that Cal had only said what he had a few moments ago in order to get rid of her. There was going another boat! She, Jack, and Rose were going to be rescued!

Just then, another distress rocket exploded in the sky, and Jack and Rose's faces were haloed in the white light. Clara watched in shock as tears start flow down their face. She had been right! They had gone along with Cal's despicable lie in order to make sure she would be rescued! They were going to sacrifice themselves, their love, for her. The refrain of their song played through her mind. No… she couldn't let them do this! She _wouldn't_ let them do this! They couldn't sacrifice their love for each other just so she could be safe! Their song could never be finished if either of them died! With that thought in mind, she scrambled out of her seat, shoved the two little girls out of her way, and hurled herself out of the boat, and on to the A-Deck Promenade.

"Clara, no!" Jack screamed in horror as he and Rose leaned over the railing to watch as she struggled to throw her nutcracker onto the deck before attempting to climb over the railings down there.

"Clara!" Rose cried. "What are you doing?"

Clara ignored them as two men from third-class helped her over the railing, just as shocked as everyone else was of her sudden leap back onto the ship. She ignored their stares. She just picked up her nutcracker, and started to running down the deck to get to the A-Deck foyer of the Grand Staircase, shoving everyone in her path out of the way.

Jack and Rose bolted away from the railing, desperate to find the entrance to the foyer.

As Clara sprinted inside the opulent room, she spied Jack and Rose on the staircase, running as fast as they could to her. So she ran faster, too, just as desperate to see them as they were to see her. She collided right into a warm, loving hug from both of them at the bottom of the stairs.

"Clara!" Jack cried, hugging her tightly, still in shock.

"Clara!" said Rose, smothering her face in a shower of kisses, overjoyed that she was okay.

"Jack! Rose!" Clara wailed, feeling her tears start up again as she buried her face deep into their clothes. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"

"You're so stupid, Clair!" Jack said, stroking her hair desperately to make sure she was okay.

"Why'd you do that, huh?" Rose asked between kisses. "Jack is right! You're so stupid!"

"Why'd you do that?" said Jack, his and Rose's tears starting to fall. "Why?" Clara poked her head out from their clothing to reveal her red, puffy face.

"You guys jump, I jump, right?" she asked, reciting the words she had heard them both say while attempting to smile. Jack and Rose hugged her even tighter from hearing her reason and laughed.

"Right!" Jack said, lifting her off the floor to hold her against his chest.

"Yes, you're right!" Rose said, tenderly kissing her cheeks.

"I'm sorry!" she squealed, burying her face into Jack's shoulder. "I just couldn't go! I couldn't let you two sacrifice your love for each other just for me!"

"It's okay!" Jack spluttered, he and Rose hugging her tightly. "It's okay! We just have to figure something else out!"

At the top of the staircase, Caledon Hockley watched this entire exchange with rage. That stupid little mouse had ruined everything! He wasn't going to have Rose now because of her! He had lost his chance at escaping this ship because of her! That girl was probably even the reason why Rose had fallen in love with the penniless artist! Everything was her fault!

Lovejoy cautiously approached him, and tried to lead him away, but Cal had lost all concept of right and wrong common sense. With a roar of fury, he swiped the pistol from the inner pocket of his suit, and dashed back to the top of the stairs. He had gone mad. He was determined to kill that mouse. Only when that girl was dead could he have Rose! So long as that mouse was alive, the gutter rat would forever distract her! He thundered an estranged cry to the heavens as he fired the gun right at Clara.


	8. No One At Fault

**IMPORTANT AUTHOR NOTE! PLEASE READ!**

**To begin, I'm extremely sorry that this chapter is much shorter compared to the last two I've posted. It's just that the next chapter is going to be the ending, and I want that one to be very long. However, I'm afraid that you, my dear reviewers, are going to have to be patient for that last chapter. Ever since I first thought up this story back in mid-December, I started racing against the clock to make sure that I posted the final chapter on April 15th, 2012, to commemorate the 100th anniversary for when the day that the _R.M.S._ _Titanic_ sank on April 15th, 1912. As you can guess, that deadline will easily be reached without any worries, considering that the day I'm publishing this is February 8th, 2012, at 4:58 P.M. I never intended to write this so fast, that I would end up leaving all of you waiting desperately for my desired deadline. I deeply apologize to you all, but I'm determined to keep that deadline, and publish it on April 15th. Anyone, and I mean anyone, who makes a review begging me to update sooner will have their review deleted at once! In my opinion, I am trying to honor all those people who lost their life on that tragic night, and all I can ask of you is to do the same!**

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><p>Jack heard Cal's shout of rage, and looked up just as he was aiming the gun at sweet little Clara, who he still had in his arms. He just barely managed to grab Rose with one hand, and jump out of the way the moment Cal fired. Hearing the gunshot, Clara and Rose's heads whipped around in time to witness the carved cherub at the foot of the center railing on the stairs, where they had been standing a moment ago, blast into pieces.<p>

"Come on! Move!" Jack shouted, sounding truly afraid. Clara, shocked and terrified, wrapped the arm not holding her nutcracker tightly around his neck as he and Rose scrambled quickly across the foyer to the stairs leading down to D-Deck, desperate to get away. Cal wouldn't give up that easily. He tore down the Grand Staircase wildly, chasing after them. In his rush, he stepped on top of the skittering cherub head, and went sprawling onto the marble tiles. His gun went clattering across the floor. He groaned slightly from the fall, but he still got up, and kept running after them, not even stopping as he scooped up the revolver.

"Come on!" Jack screamed, he and Rose flying down the stairs at three at a time, while Clara wailed in fear of Cal's insanity as she clutched her nutcracker tightly. With a roar on anger, he fired again, but missed, his bullet blowing a divot out of the handsome oak paneling over their heads as they ran. From all the adrenaline pumping in their bodies, Jack and Rose merely jumped slightly when they heard the wood behind them burst into pieces, but they kept on running. Clara, however, who had been peeking over Jack's shoulder to see how close Cal was advancing on them, screamed bloody murder when she saw the paneling shatter. Jack tucked her head into his chest. He couldn't let her witness Cal's next attempt to shoot them again.

"Move!" Cal snapped, knocking a man from third-class out of his way as he continued his pursuit, firing for a third time. His poor aim made him miss the girl once more. Clara screamed when she heard him fire again, but this time, she didn't dare chance another peek at Cal. Jack and Rose just kept on running. Yes, they were terrified, too, but they didn't dare let their emotions show. Clara was in shock from Cal wanting to kill her, and they had to stay strong for her. They had to get away, and protect her from that bastard.

Jack, Rose, and Clara had finally reached the bottom of the Grand Staircase, where the frigid water was already flooding.

"Brace yourself, Clair," Jack shouted, tightening his grip on her little body as he and Rose ran down the last few steps. "The water's colder than you can even imagine!" Before she could reply, he and Rose ran straight down into the freezing, waist-deep waters.

Clara shrieked, and thrashed around in Jack's arms. She was in absolute agony! The water was acting like needles penetrating deeply into the pores of her dry skin. This was the first time she was actually touching the arctic waters, and she started to howl in pain. This was far worse than the time she had fallen into Lake Wisota so many years ago. Back then, she had only been in the icy waters only for a few seconds before her wonderful big brother had jumped in to rescue her, pulling her onto his back to protect her. Now, she was being forced to stay in it in order to escape a madman trying to kill her.

"It's okay, Clara! It's okay!" Jack shouted as he and Rose splashed across the sloping room to reach the first-class dining hall, hearing her whimpers from how much the water was hurting her. It broke his heart to force her to feel the excruciatingly ice-cold waters, but he had little choice if he wanted to protect her. "We're nearly to the dining hall! It's dry in there! You won't have to feel the water once we cross this one part!"

"Just hang on!" Rose added as Cal came bolting down the steps. He saw where they were heading and growled in rage. They were going to get away! He followed them into the waters. He didn't even feel the painful stabbing of its coldness as he shot at them. Twice. Again, Clara screamed, as did Rose when they saw the water around them burst up like geysers when the missed bullets hit the water instead.

"Come on, come on!" Jack encouraged, squeezing his precious sister tightly against his chest as his grip on Rose's hand tightened as well. Cal kept firing at them, determined not to let them escape. "Move, Rose! You can do it!" He fumbled open the oriental doors that led into the dining hall. "Go! Go!" They ran inside as Cal's next bullet shattered the window next to them.

"I hope you enjoy your time together!" Cal roared, furious that they had all gotten away. They didn't answer him. They just kept on running, terrified by the thought that he might change his mind and keep running after them. As Cal waded back over to the stairs, he suddenly remembered something. He shook his head, and actually started laughing at his own stupidity as Lovejoy came bounding down the steps leading back to the still dry decks.

"What could possibly be funny?" Lovejoy asked him, not understanding his sudden change in behavior. Cal turned to him.

"I put the diamond," he said, still laughing, "in the coat… And I put the coat on Rose!" He shouted in anger, using his pistol to point in the direction they had ran in. He was fuming. Then he turned back to Lovejoy, his eyes glittering. Lovejoy was his servant. All he had to do was command him to get the diamond, and he would do it! However, the ship was sinking, and he wouldn't just go down there without a tiny bit of bribery, first…

"I'll give it to you…" Cal lied, giving him the gun. "I'll give it to you if you can get it!" He didn't wait for his answer. He just dashed back up the stairs. Lovejoy stared after him.

"Bastard…" he mumbled, shaking his head. He knew he was lying. He had personally been with Cal when he had purchased the Heart of the Ocean back in France for Rose. He actually knew how much it had cost, and it certainly hadn't been cheap. It had cost quite a profitable amount of the Hockley fortune. Cal would never give away something that valuable. Lovejoy was actually very surprised he hadn't even remembered that it was in the pocket of the coat until now, after having putting the coat on Rose… Wait… Rose had the diamond! Cal probably didn't even expect that she and those two steerage passengers would survive, now. They were, after all, running down into the bottom levels of the ship, which were flooding at an alarming rate. If he could get the diamond from Rose, he wouldn't have to be Cal's bodyguard anymore! He could just tell Cal he hadn't been able to find them, and once they got back to New York, he could just quit his job and sell it! He smirked at his ingenious plan, and splashed down the steps, pausing only for a moment to hiss when he felt the icy water.

As he went into the dining hall, he quietly reloaded the gun, not wanting Rose or her two companions to hear him. The room was starting to flood and tilt slightly, but he had no problems running down it. He went directly to the closed set of double doors on the other side. He tried to force them open, only to discover that they were locked. He slowly turned, and started walking around the room, searching for any sign of Rose, Jack, or Clara. A few of the light bulbs above him blew out, but he didn't even flinch. Then he whirled around, having heard something. His hopes fell when he realized all he had heard was one of the serving trolleys, starting to roll down the sloping room from the angle of the ship. He gazed back over at the water.

It had advanced greatly in the few short seconds he had last seen it. It was now at least a hundred feet into the dining room. Chairs and tables were starting to float, and silverware and fine china on top of them were smashing against each other from the force of the waves. Lovejoy gulped; knowing the three of them could be hiding anywhere. This place nearly looked like an ocean itself, with the tables acting as floating islands. The creaks the ship was creating were making him very nervous. He didn't want to stay in here much longer.

On the opposite side of the room, Jack, Rose, and Clara were crouching behind a table that hadn't yet started to float, peeking sparingly over at Lovejoy to make sure he couldn't see them. They were all scared. The water was slowly creeping closer to them. They had to try and stay out of it in order to stay silent so Lovejoy wouldn't find them. Jack motioned for Rose and Clara to stay quiet as they inched between the tables to get away from the water. Then, the ship gave a sudden, loud groan. Rose quickly slapped her hand over Clara's mouth to keep her from squealing in surprise.

'_Don't scream!'_ She mouthed. Clara slowly nodded, realizing she was right, and she removed her hand. Jack peeked around another table to see where Lovejoy was. His back was to them. Jack brought a finger to lips, and then raised his hand to them, indicating for Rose and Clara to wait here and stay quiet. They nodded to show they understood him. Jack peeked around the table again to make sure Lovejoy still wasn't looking their way before crawling swiftly behind another table by himself.

"I know you're here," said Lovejoy suddenly, making Rose and Clara jump slightly, but they didn't dare to say a thing. They just clung to each other tightly. Both of them were praying that he wouldn't find them. "No use prolonging this. It's only a matter of time…"

Clara looked at Rose fearfully, hugging her nutcracker tightly against her. Lovejoy's voice was steadily growing closer to their hiding place. Rose hugged Clara closely to her chest, gently caressing her wet hair in attempt to keep her calm and quiet. Rose prayed that Jack had some sort of a plan. The water was now up to her and Clara's chests as they stayed hidden in their crouching positions. For a few moments, the only sounds that could be heard were Lovejoy wading through the water as he tried to find them, the moans of the groaning ship, and the china banging against each other. Then, to Rose and Clara's horror, Clara's nutcracker slipped out of her grasp slightly, making an ever-so-slight splash. Lovejoy whirled around, having heard it. As he started to make his way over to the table they were hiding behind, Clara glanced up at Rose.

'_I'm sorry!' _she mouthed to her just as Lovejoy turned to their table. They both stared up at him, terrified. Lovejoy ignored Clara, and pointed the gun at Rose.

"I've been looking for you, miss."

Right then, Jack sprang out from his separate hiding place, lunging on top of him. Lovejoy, not expecting this surprise attack, went flying into one of the decorative windows in between the pillars. In attempt to get free from the boy's grasp on him, Lovejoy fired a bullet in the air, trying to startle him. It worked, because his hands loosened a bit. Lovejoy quickly spun around, and tackled Jack into a table floating nearby. They both tumbled over the top of it before crashing to the watery floor.

"Jack!" Rose screamed in horror. Jack didn't reply. He was solely focused on Lovejoy as they wrestled furiously through the freezing waters. "Jack!"

With a sudden burst of strength, Lovejoy successfully managed to throw Jack off of him. He went toppling back first into the water. Lovejoy smirked, and started to raise his gun-

SMASH! Lovejoy bellowed in pain as a plate went soaring into the back of his skull, followed by a wine glass, and then a soup bowl. Jack, Rose, and Lovejoy whirled in the direction that the projectiles were coming from. Clara had climbed up on top of one of the tables, and was throwing every piece of china she could seize at Lovejoy. She was glaring at him.

"Don't you hurt my brother!" she screamed furiously, now flinging another plate at him. "Don't you dare!"

"You little shit!" Lovejoy shouted, now running across the room towards her. Jack pounced on him from behind, desperate to protect his little sister even if it cost him his life.

"You're not laying one finger on her!" He hollered, hammering Lovejoy's face into the nearest pillar. Then he whirled him around, and was about to punch him in the face, when Clara suddenly jumped off the table.

"Here!" shouted Clara, who was now running towards Lovejoy as fast she could with one of the dining room chairs. "Compliments of the Chippewa Falls Dawson's!" She screamed in rage as she swung the chair against his body with all her might. Lovejoy roared, feeling his skull split open. "And this," she screeched as she dropped the chair, "is for endangering my nutcracker!" She kicked him between the legs as hard as she could. He bellowed in pain.

"And this," Jack shouted as he raised his fist, "is for slapping Clara!" He struck him right in the nose. Lovejoy, weakened from Clara hitting him with a chair and kicking his privates, fell lifelessly into the water. As he groaned, trying to get back up, Jack quickly scooped Clara up and grabbed hold of Rose's hand. "C'mon!" he shouted, running towards the doors, forgetting that they were locked.

"Jack, they're locked, remember?" Clara cried. Jack froze. Then he handed her over to Rose.

"Hold her!" he shouted before facing the doors. Mustering up more of his strength, he threw his shoulder into them. They crashed open. Rose ran with Clara through them just as Lovejoy slowly got to his feet, and shakily aimed his gun at them.

"No!" Clara shrieked. Jack saw her distress and yanked them both out of the way mere milliseconds before the bullet chiseled the wall. Angered, Lovejoy slowly waded after them. Jack led them quickly down the narrow galley, where there were two sets of stairs. One leading back up to the dry decks, and one leading down to the narrow steerage corridors. Rose started to go up the stairs to the upper decks, when Jack pulled her away from them.

"No, this way!" he whispered, pulling her and Clara into the stairs leading down to the flooding hallways. At the bottom, he brought his finger to his lips, signaling they had to stay quiet. It was the perfect place to hide. Only someone crazy would head down to the lower levels of a sinking ship. Sure enough, Lovejoy didn't stop to think twice about which staircase they had taken, and went straight up the other flight of stairs. The ship gave another groan; the metal it was made of was creaking from the pressure of the water. As soon as they could no longer hear his footsteps, they all let out deep breaths of relief. That had been way too close.

They were about to go back up, when something else reached their ears. Faint crying down below. They all turned back down and looked out into the corridor, searching for the source of the cries. Then they saw it. At the opposite end of the hallway there was a little boy, dressed in his pajamas and an oversized, soaking wet brown coat beside a tiny suitcase. He looked as though he was either three, or maybe four years old. He was completely alone, up to his ankles in the freezing cold water. He was crying hysterically, overcome by terror of the situation. Rose could see just how scared he was, and turned to Jack.

"We can't leave him."

Jack glanced back over to the stairs. Water was already beginning to pour down them. The ship was sinking fast. With a sigh, he glanced back over to the boy. Rescuing him would mean endangering their lives, but they couldn't just leave him there, wailing in fear as he awaited his death.

"Alright, come on!" Rose, still carrying Clara, splashed down the hallway behind him. Jack was scooping him up when the three of them noticed the double doors a few feet ahead. Water was gushing out of the gaps between the doors and the frame, and they were squeaking dangerously. They could buckle at any second from the pressure of the water on the other side of them. Jack and Rose ran in the opposite direction, determined to go back to the staircase they had just come from.

"No!" Clara screamed, pointing at them. "Look!" They both froze when they saw what she was referring to. The stairwell they had just come from was now spouting out water as fast as a waterfall. It was another dead end.

"Go back!" Jack shouted, turning on his heels. "Go back!" There had been another corridor they had passed that could lead to a way out. They were halfway there when a man suddenly dashed out from it, stopping to look in the direction of the doors, where the boy had been standing. Horrified that the boy was gone, he whirled in Jack, Rose, and Clara's direction, who now realized that this was the boys' father. Furious that strangers were taking his child away, he swiped his son out of Jack's arms as he shoved him away, yelling gibberish at him in an unknown language. He started to run in the direction of the double doors, which were groaning and buckling more than ever, now.

"It's the wrong way!" Jack shouted as he and Rose, who was still carrying Clara as she hugged her nutcracker to her chest, ran after them.

"No!" Rose screamed. "Not that way!"

"It's the wrong way!" Clara cried, desperate for him to turn back around. "Come back! Come back!"

It was no use. The man didn't understand English. He was just picking up the suitcase near the spot the child had been standing, when the doors finally gave way. The water thundered towards the man with his son, and they were engulfed in a whirlpool of rapidly churning water.

"Run!" Jack shouted, dragging them down the opening to the other corridor. "Run! Run!" They fiercely charged down the narrow hall, hoping to be able to outrun the wall of water that was blasting toward them. Their attempt was in vain. Within seconds, Jack and Rose were swept off their feet, and Rose was separated from Clara, who was now clutching her nutcracker against her body as tight as she could to hold onto him as the three of them were helplessly propelled like debris through the arctic water, slamming into a locked iron gate beside a flight of stairs. Jack struggled against the current to swim around Rose and Clara, and clawed for the wall next to them, trying to grasp onto the wooden trim.

"This way!" he yelled, trying to grab either of their hands. Rose could see that Clara had no intention of moving either of her arms. Together, they were only barely keeping her nutcracker to her chest. She simply pushed Clara against the pounding water to Jack, who literally collected her in one arm before grabbing Rose's hand with the same arm. Hugging Clara to his chest and squeezing Rose's hand tightly so the three of them wouldn't be separated, he started to force his way against the water to get to the stairs, clinging onto the wall so as not to be forced back toward the gate. It was a nearly impossible job, but at last, Jack succeeded in turning the corner. Jack, Rose, and Clara scrambled up the stairs, relief flooding through them at this means of escape, only to turn back to overwhelming dread and horror. At the top of the stairs was another locked gate. They were trapped.

"Oh, God!" Rose screamed, clasping the metal bars of the gates tightly.

"This is it!" Clara cried, burying her face into Jack's neck as she started to sob. "We're really going to drown!"

Jack just grunted a whirlwind of profanities as he rattled the gates, viciously trying to pry them apart. It was futile. They wouldn't budge. He looked over his shoulder. The water was rising rapidly toward them.

"Help!" he shouted out as he continued to shake the gates, but to no avail.

"Help! Please!" Rose cried, trying to assist Jack as best she could.

"Help! Help us!" Clara screamed dejectedly. She was sure this was the end for them. By now, the water was swirling around their ankles. At this rate, they were going to drown in a matter of minutes.

Just then, a lone steward came dashing through the hallway. At first, Jack, Rose, and Clara thought he had heard them, but their hopes fell when they saw him lunge for the staircase across from them.

"Wait, sir!" Jack shouted. Startled, the steward stopped and turned around, noticing them for the first time. "Sir, open the gate! Please! Please!"

"Help us!" Rose cried desperately. "Please!"

"Please!" Clara screamed, reaching through the bars in her desperation for him to come back. "Open the gates! Please!"

"Please!" Jack begged.

Seeing their desperation painted on their faces, and the welcoming staircase to salvation beside him, the steward just stood there for a moment, not sure what he ought to do. He started to climb the first few steps, but then he shook his head.

"Bloody hell!" he muttered, whirling around and zipping back to the gate as he took out his ring of keys. With his hands shaking madly, he barely managed to squeeze one into the lock, but it was no good. It wasn't the right one.

"Hurry!" Rose begged, feeling the water reach her knees.

"Come on! Come on!" Jack screamed at him. He knew shouting was just making the steward more nervous, judging by the fact he was hunched over and his hands were shaking more than ever, now, but the water level was scaring the shit out of him.

"Go! Go!" Clara begged, squeezing her nutcracker and Jack tightly.

"Please, hurry!" Rose cried.

The steward fumbled with more of the keys. He was freezing cold from having splashed through the corridor, but he was sweating profoundly from how nervous he was of Jack, Rose, and Clara screaming at him to hurry. He was about to try the last key, when a fuse blew out somewhere nearby. Then, the worst possible thing imaginable happened. Startled from the sparks, the steward dropped the keys in the waist-deep water.

"I'm sorry, I dropped the keys." He let out lamely before dashing up the stairwell, ignoring their looks of horror.

"Wait, please!" Jack called out after him.

"Please, come back!" Clara screamed.

"Don't leave!" Rose cried out in fear. "Please, send for help!"

Jack realized that they weren't going to get any more assistance. Not only from that clumsy steward, but also from anyone at all, and he would be damned if he were to just stand here and not even try to save Rose, Clara, and himself from drowning. He sucked in a deep breath of air, shoved Clara over to Rose, and plunged down into the bone-chilling water. He forced himself to go all the way to the floor, and reached his arm out underneath the iron gate, searching frantically for the keys. He quickly spotted them, and tried to stretch his arm out further to reach them. They were to be their only salvation. However, they were just barely out of his reach. Furious, he forced his entire shoulder to go beyond the iron of the gate, and, ignoring the sharp pain of steel digging into the flesh of his arm, he just barely managed to hook the ring of keys with his index finger. He hastily swam back up.

Rose and Clara were overjoyed when they saw his head pop back out from the water. Rose was being forced to hold Clara high above her, since the water was now reaching her chest. Despite the fact that they were both ecstatic to see he had found the keys, neither of them was able to mask how petrifyingly scared they both were.

"I got 'em!" Jack spluttered out as he coughed the chilling waters out of his throat. "Which one is it, Rose, Clair?"

"The sharp one!" Clara shouted in a shaky voice as she squeezed her nutcracker. She remembered that the steward had tried every key except for a particularly sharp one. "Try the sharp one!"

Jack didn't hesitate to comply. He hurriedly drove his hands between the bars, and started searching for the keyhole.

"Hurry, Jack!" Rose cried, the water now to her neck.

"O-oh no!" Jack shouted in the tiny space of air left, unable to squeeze the key into the hole. "Oh no, come on!"

"Big brother, hurry!" Clara screamed, terrified of the swirling vortex of water that nearly was reaching her mouth.

"It's stuck! It's stuck!" He shouted in aggravation, still maneuvering the key. "Come on! Come on!" As though his yelling had had the magic touch, the lock finally clicked open. "I got it! I got it! Go, Rose, Clara! Go!" Together, the three of them successfully managed to pull the gate open, and they all forced themselves to swim through current to the stairs that the steward had gone up. Their heads had to skim the ceiling, but none of them could even feel the pain.

Rose, still holding Clara, got out first after they had swam all the way up the stairs. They paused, waiting for Jack to come up, too, but he didn't submerge.

"Jack!" Rose cried fearfully.

"Big brother!" Clara screamed, starting to think the worst.

Less than a moment later, he appeared above the water, grasping onto the pipes on the ceiling as he gasped for breath.

"Come on, Jack!" Rose shouted. He ducked under the pipes and swam over to them at the stairs. Relief flooded through Rose and Clara as they grabbed his arms, helping him out of the water before all three of them began scrambling up the last few steps of the stairs.

They had escaped death by a hair.

* * *

><p>On the boat deck, Fabrizio and Tommy were struggling to find Jack, Rose, and Clara. Having no idea about their confrontation with Cal, they had assumed that the three of them were now lost in the panic surrounding them. They spied a lifeboat being taken down from the top of the Officer's Quarters, and they ran over to it, both of them hoping that one of them were in the small crowd gathering around it.<p>

"Women and children only!" screamed Murdoch, he and another officer having to wield their pistols in order to force the distressed men away from the collapsible. He could no longer allow himself to continue letting men to board the boats. There were still so many women and children left on the ship. He had to get them into the lifeboats, now. Not the men. Many immigrants, who despite not understanding English but were able to understand judging by the actions of the officers that no men were to board the boats, starting flinging themselves off the decks, and into the water. They were to have a better chance to survive that way than to argue with the officers.

Caledon Hockley, however, was still under the impression that his deal with Murdoch was still underway, and he was also scrambling along the deck to reach the last boat. He was about to start forcing his way through the crowd clustered around the collapsible, when a person crying made him turn in surprise.

"Mommy! Mommy!"

Hidden in a small alcove right next to him, a little immigrant girl of maybe two was abandoned. She was crying, not knowing what was going on. She looked up at Cal. He felt his heartstrings pull when he saw the child. Part of him wanted to help her, to assure her that things would be okay, but he couldn't. He had to save himself, not worry about this kid. He tore his way through the crowd without looking back at her.

"Stop pushing!" the other officer cried, blocking the tiny boat from the men gathered around it. "Stay back! Stay back!" Tommy was enraged by their insist of only women and children. The ship was nearly halfway sunk. To him, it no longer mattered who exactly got into the boats, so long as people did file into them.

"Will you give us a chance to live, you limey bastards?" he shouted desperately.

"I'll shoot any man who tries to get past me!" Murdoch shouted back, waving his pistol warningly at all the men in the crowd while the crewmen behind him started strapping the boat into the davits. "Get back!"

"Bastard!" Tommy yelled as Cal finally broke out of the crowd. He started to run toward the boat, but the sight of Murdoch pointing the revolver at him made him freeze.

"Get back!" Murdoch hollered, his finger on the trigger to shoot. Cal was livid.

"We had a deal, damn it!" he thundered, taking a cautious step forward. Murdoch sneered as he thrust his hand into the pocket that the money was in. He threw it to him in disgust, ignoring the shocked looked on the man's face.

"Your money can't save you anymore than it can save me," he snapped. Then he looked away from Cal to some desperate immigrants that were trying to push their way through the mob. "Get back! Women and children only!"

One man however, didn't give a damn about what the officers were saying. He was too desperate to be saved to listen. He made a mad dash for the boat, but was promptly shot by Murdoch. Then another man, seeing Murdoch distracted, tried to force his way through the horde of people, only to accidentally bump into Tommy. He stumbled forward. Murdoch, believing him to be another man desperate to reach the boat, quickly fired. The bullet pierced him right through his lifebelt and into his chest, and he collapsed down on the deck.

"No, Tommy!" Fabrizio shouted, immediately kneeling down beside him. Tommy's face was already becoming very, very pale. Fabrizio had never been very religious, but he prayed to any God's out there for Tommy to be all right. "No, no, Tommy!" It was no use. He had been dead the moment the bullet had struck him. With tears forming in his eyes, Fabrizio turned to Murdoch.

"_Bastardo!"_ he screamed, feeling hatred for the officer swell up inside him. How could he not hate him? He had just shot Tommy, an innocent man. Murdoch was in shock, and he slowly backed away to the edge of the deck. He hadn't realized that Tommy hadn't meant to stumble forward. He had just assumed he was another of the crazed men surrounding him. He felt as though it were a crime for him to be alive, when he had just killed that young man. He stared at his pistol for a moment, readying himself with what he was about to do. Then he nodded to himself, and glimpsed back up at the panic. His fellow officer realized his intentions when he saw Murdoch salute to him before placing the end of the revolver to his temple.

"No, Will!" he shouted, rushing to try and stop him, but it was already too late. Murdoch had already fired. Everyone in the mob screamed as he went sprawling down the edge of the deck, landing like a lifeless doll in the water only a few feet below. The officer stared in horror for a moment, but then he remembered what was going on. He was alone, now. He would have to deal with this crowd himself. He turned back to the looming crowd, and shouted,

"Now stand back, damn you!"

A thought then struck Cal. Now that Murdoch was gone, no one else on the deck recognized him, and if he were to get onto a boat and be rescued, the only way would be with a woman or a child. He pushed his way back through the crowd to find the child he had seen before. She was still where he had last seen her. Crying bitterly in the corner, and being ignored in all the confusion. He swiftly lifted her up in his arms, and cradled her as he forced his way back through the horde of people.

"I have a child! I have a child!" he called out over the shouts of everyone else, trying to make his way back to the boat. "Please, I have a child!" The officer heard him.

"Clear a path, here!" he shouted out, forcing his way slightly through the crowd himself in order to part all the people. "Clear a path!"

"Please, I have a child!" Cal shouted again as he pushed the last person out of his way. He was now face-to-face with the unknown officer. He forced himself to look even more desperate than he already was. Whether he was to live or die on this ship now depended on how well he was to lie to this man. "Please…" he begged as he pretended to fight back tears. "I'm all she has in the world…" The man looked at the screaming little girl for a moment, seeing her cling to him. Thinking that the girl was desperate to stay with her father that he was presuming Cal was, he curtly nodded.

"Go on," he said gruffly, nodding to the boat. Cal ran past him to get in. "Step back!" he shouted to the other men. "Step back, I say!"

"Here! Give her to me!" one woman told Cal as he tried to get into the boat without hurting the child. He thankfully handed her over to the woman and got in. Once he was seated, the woman gave him back the girl. As he gently began to rock her, Cal felt for the first time, love fill his heart. Love for rescuing this poor little girl.

"Shh…" He whispered, stroking her hair gently as he rocked her back and forth in his lap, trying to calm her down. "There, there…"

* * *

><p>Bride raced into the Wireless Operating Room, wearing a lifebelt, and carrying an extra one. Phillips was still sending out the distress call, S.O.S. He was so focused and desperate, he didn't even glance up when Bride ran in.<p>

"The boat deck's awash!" Bride panted. Phillips still didn't look up at him. He just started to pound the message in even harder into the Marconi instrument from Bride's words. "Come on, let's clear out." Bride urged. "We've done our duty." Phillips shot him a dirty look as he kept on tapping the machine. "Come on!" Bride shouted. "We're gonna be eating sand for breakfast!"

"I'm not going!" Phillips shouted back as he continued to punch out the distress call, catching Bride off-guard. Bride stared at him in shock for a moment, but then he gazed sadly at him. He understood why Phillips was refusing to leave. Before the iceberg had struck, he had gone and annoyed the operator on the _Californian_ about his constant warnings about the incoming ice, and they had now shut off their machine. Phillips had every reason to blame himself for the fact that over half the people on board were going to die. He would stay in this room, relaying the distress signal over and over again as he prayed for the operator on the _Californian_ to turn their wireless station back on, and come rescue them.

Bride stepped towards his friend, and slipped the spare lifebelt on over his shoulders.

"You're mad," he muttered to Phillips before dashing back out.

* * *

><p>Jack, Rose, and Clara were racing through the interior first-class rooms, desperate to reach the stern section of the ship. It was probably the safest place for them to be right now, considering that the ship was tilting towards the bow. As they were running through the first-class Smoking Room, they spied a figure with his lifebelt discarded on a nearby chair that was standing before the fireplace, which was still burning, as he looked depressingly at the painting over the mantel. Jack and Rose weren't planning to pay him any mind, but Clara happened to recognize him.<p>

"Wait! Wait!" she cried, forcing her hand out of Jack's, who, in return, also stopped running and pulled Rose back in order to find out why she had stopped. Then they recognized the man that she was staring at. "Mr. Andrews?"

He slowly turned to face them, not even bothering to try and hide the tears in his eyes.

"Oh, sweet little Clara…" he said almost in a whisper.

"Won't you even make a try for it?" Rose quietly asked, not wanting the kind man to sacrifice himself with the ship. He smiled sadly and shook his head, feeling more tears collect in his eyes at her kind thought.

"I'm sorry," he said, "that I didn't build you a stronger ship, young Rose…"

Hearing his words, Clara dropped her nutcracker, and sunk to her knees. His words had struck deeply into her soul. This man had obviously cherished this ship, and had devoted every waking moment into making Mr. Ismay's mere dream into a truly wonderful reality, but it was tumbling to pieces because of her. _She_ was to blame for all of this by opening her big mouth. _She_ had ridiculed Mr. Andrews and Mr. Ismay the other night at dinner about mocking that stupid book. _She_ had predicted from the very beginning that _Titanic_ was doomed to sink… and she had been right. The ship was indeed sinking, and it was her fault…

"Th-this is my fault…!" she whimpered, staring at the floor with her fists balled up tightly. Jack, Rose, and Mr. Andrews stared at her, confused by what she meant. She didn't even notice their stares. "I… I'm to blame… I cursed the ship! I… I said from the beginning… that the ship would sink… And it is…! This… This is my-"

A sudden sharp pain across her face silenced her. Clara snapped out of her shock as Mr. Andrews, who looked her firmly in the eye as he knelt down to her level, forcefully brought her back up to her feet. She was nearly horrified when she realized he had smacked her in order to get her attention.

"No, sweet Clara!" he said firmly, gently shaking her shoulders. He had a crazed, desperate look in his eyes, and Clara was almost scared of him. Mr. Andrews sensed her fear, and tried to tone down his facial expression, but with no success. He wouldn't allow this sweet, kind little girl to blame herself for what was happening. Not when she had tried to warn everyone about the consequences of being so confident and conceited about _Titanic._ He would never find peace if Clara were to blame herself for the ship sinking.

"Never," Mr. Andrews said, gripping her shoulders tightly, "say that any of this is your fault! If anything, you should be saying that you had tried to warn me, that you had tried to warn everyone about this ship! But I didn't listen. No one did. More than anything, you should consider yourself the one person on this ship that saw past what we were all too foolish to see, and tried to prevent this terrible tragedy from occurring! Do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir," she whispered, terrified at how serious Mr. Andrews was. He smiled, and gently released her shoulders from his grip.

"Thank you," he said, patting her head as he got back to his feet. "I would never have rested in peace if you didn't know that…"

"It's sinking fast," Jack said, grabbing Clara's nutcracker off the floor and giving it to her before scooping her up in his arms, and taking hold of Rose's hand. "We have to move!" He started to lead the way to the revolving doors that led back into the Palm Court restaurant.

"Wait!" Mr. Andrews cried. They stopped and watched as he picked up his own discarded lifebelt on one of the plush chairs. He handed it to Rose. "Good luck to you all…" he whispered. Rose felt tears gather in her eyes.

"And to you…" she whispered, giving him a brief hug before turning to face Jack and Clara. "Clara, put this on." She held up the lifebelt, and was about to put it over Clara's tiny head, when she pushed it away.

"No," Clara said seriously. "I don't need it."

"Clara, put it on!" Jack ordered. He needed to make sure she was safe. Again, she shook her head.

"But I know how to swim, big brother," she pointed out. "Rose doesn't. She needs it more than me."

Jack and Rose stared at each other. Clara was right. She did know how to swim, but Rose didn't. She would need the lifebelt more than Clara would.

"Alright," Rose said, slipping it over her head, and tying the straps. They all gazed one last time at Mr. Andrews before going through the revolving door, leaving him behind to die.

* * *

><p>Back on the Grand Staircase, Benjamin Guggenheim was walking deliberately slowly down the stairs with his valet, drinking in the magnificence of the foyer. They were both dressed in their finest eveningwear: Top hats and tailcoats. They weren't going to kid themselves. They both knew they were about to die. There was no point in running to any of the few lifeboats left, because no men were being allowed to board them. They were prepared to do the only thing they knew how to do when the ship was finally flooded, and that was to go down as first-class gentlemen. A lone porter saw that neither of them had lifebelts, and headed strait toward them.<p>

"Mr. Guggenheim?" the porter cried, carrying two sets of lifebelts to him. "These are for you, Mr. Guggenheim." Mr. Guggenheim merely shook his head as he tactfully brushed the lifebelts aside.

"No, thank you," he replied. "We're dressed in our best, and we're prepared to go down as gentlemen." They walked past him to sit upon some nearby chairs. The porter nodded, feeling admiration for the two men as he went up the stairs, looking for some other people to give the lifebelts too. "But we would like a brandy!" he added over his shoulder.

John Jacob Astor suddenly brushed past him. Mr. Guggenheim hardly even recognized him. His eyes were horrorstruck, and his expression was completely blank. He was wearing a lifebelt, but Guggenheim could recognize that it was merely because he had been forced into one. Astor, too, had already accepted his fate.

"I'm looking for my damn dog," he said as he walked past the men.

"John," Guggenheim called out. Astor paused, and turned around. Guggenheim stretched out his hand. Astor shook it, saying his final goodbye to his friend. There was a brief pause.

"Madeline asked me to look for the dog…" Astor said after a few moments. Guggenheim nodded, and they parted ways.

* * *

><p>"Get the falls over here, now!"<p>

"Make them taut! Then we'll right it!"

Captain Smith just stared dejectedly at the officers as the lowered the remaining boats. He felt as though he was watching one of the new cinematography films, as he saw water start to flood the deck. Everything was surreal, as though he wasn't even here, but watching someone else's memories entirely. After all, part of him didn't want to fully accept what was going on. His ship, his beloved _Titanic,_ was sinking. That was something that no captain on earth would ever want to accept. He didn't even have the strength to speak; he was so overcome by grief.

"_Capitan,"_ came a thick accented voice behind him. He turned. A young immigrant woman nursing a baby was standing behind him. She looked lost, and was struggling to form English words. _"Capitan,"_ she repeated. "Where should I go? Please?"

Smith pointed to a boat that a few officers were removing from the top of the Officer's Quarters. She smiled to show her gratitude before running to it. Smith felt a tear roll down his cheek as he turned back around, and walked lifelessly towards the wheelhouse.

"Captain!" cried a lone seaman, pulling off his lifejacket and running over to him. "Captain! Sir!" Smith didn't even see the lifebelt he offered. He stared right into space as he walked past him, entering the already flooding wheelhouse. There was no one in there except him and the brass instruments. He then entered the small, enclosed wing on the bridge, shutting the door behind him so no one would hear him cry.

* * *

><p>Back on the main deck, the band was just finishing the latest waltz. Hartley was going to start up another song, but then he saw the faces of his fellow musicians.<p>

"That's it, then?" Hartley asked in disbelief. The others solemnly nodded.

"Goodbye, Wally," said one of them, clapping his hand on his shoulder to say farewell, carrying his cello with him. "Good luck."

"Goodbye, Wallace."

"So long, old chap."

They started to walk away, but Hartley didn't move. He was in shock of their actions. How could they leave? They hadn't been given permission to stop playing. It was their duty as musicians to fill listeners with hope, and hope was what everyone around them needed right now. He would continue to fulfill his duty, even if they wouldn't. Hartley slowly brought his violin back up to his chin, and started to play the first few notes of what he thought was the most appropriate song to play right now: _Nearer My God to Thee._

One by one, the others slowly turned, hearing the lonely melody. Hartley gazed pleadingly with them, silently begging for them to return and help him to spread hope across the sinking ship. They gradually returned, and started to join in. Almost like magic, the song floated in the air, and was heard by almost everyone still on board the ship…

* * *

><p>Captain Smith sobbed as he stood before the second steering wheel in the wheelhouse. This entire mess was his fault. He hadn't taken the iceberg warnings seriously, and now, the ship was sinking. More than half the people on board, including him, were going to die. The thought was daunting, and he clutched the steering wheel tightly as he watched more water flood into the bridge. The bow section was now completely underwater. He sobbed even harder. He didn't want to die.<p>

Then, he suddenly heard a nostalgic melody. He smiled, realizing that the band was still playing. It was truly noble of them. Not abandoning their duty even in this crisis. Just hearing them play was all he needed to stop crying. Like them, he would stick to his duty as captain of this ship. He would not take a seat in one of the lifeboats that another woman or child would need. He would stay here, in the wheelhouse, and go down with his ship…

* * *

><p>In the first-class Smoking Room, Thomas Andrews was still standing before the magnificent fireplace, staring at the painting on the mantel. He, too, was crying. He blamed himself for the fact that the ship was going down. If he had only designed a better ship, then none of this would be happening. If he had only built a better ship, half the people on board wouldn't have to die tonight…<p>

He suddenly glanced over at the windows, hearing the song waft in from outside. He briefly smiled. How fitting, to be playing, _Nearer My God to Thee_ when they were all about to go to heaven and meet God. He looked over at the mantel to see the clock on top it. He frowned. The hands were in the exact place they had been in when Jack, Rose, and Clara had rushed through here, which had to have been at least five minutes ago. He took his brass pocket watch out from the pocket of his overcoat and checked the time. He was right. The clock on the mantel was slow. He sighed, and adjusted the hands so it could read the proper time. 2:12 A.M. Everything had to be perfect. He would be thankful in heaven that even the smallest detail had been perfected even as the ship went down…

* * *

><p>In a first-class suite, Isidor and Ida Strauss were lying together in their bed, holding each other lovingly as their room filled up with water. They were terrified. Their room would be completely filled within seconds. The thought made them cling to each other even tighter…<p>

They both sat up slightly in bed, hearing the band play. They smiled as they listened to it, and gently kissed. They were going to be together in heaven. After forty long years of happy marriage, they were going to be together at the very end…

* * *

><p>Deep below in the steerage levels, a young Irish mother had given up all hope of escaping to the upper decks with her children to where the lifeboats were, and were putting her son and daughter to bed. She tucked them in, making sure they were both warm and cozy. She nearly cried when she saw how peaceful their sleeping expressions were. She prayed that they would have quick, and painless death, so that her sweet little boy and girl wouldn't be forced to suffer. Hearing the music from up above, she forced herself to continue their bedtime story.<p>

"And so they lived," she said, choking back tears as she spoke. "Happily together for three hundred years, in the land of eternal youth and beauty…"

* * *

><p>In the foyer of the Grand Staircase, Benjamin Guggenheim watched in shock as frightened steerage passengers climbed out of the rapidly flooding water at the foot of the stairs, and ran out on the deck. He never had been so scared in his entire life. He was starting to wonder if he had made the right choice, and was debating on going back out to the boat deck himself to try and survive, too.<p>

He was about to get out of his chair, when he heard the music. He nearly shed a tear. What was he thinking? There were women and children that were still climbing out of the water. They needed a spot in the boats more than he did. He settled himself back into the chair. He would do as he said he would. He was dressed in his best, and would go down as a first-class gentleman…

* * *

><p>On the boat deck, Fabrizio was untying the lifebelt Tommy had been wearing, and was strapping it around him. He didn't wish to leave his new friend, but he saw little choice if he were to survive. Even over the roar of the rapidly approaching water in front of him, he, too, could hear the band playing nearby, and their song was filling him with hope. Hope that he would indeed survive. Hope that he would see Jack, Rose, and Clara, again. Hope that he would be reunited with Helga. Hope that he would make it to America and become a millionaire.<p>

Cal also felt hope from the music. Hope that he would get off this blasted ship. The crewmen tried to launch his boat into the water. They were having trouble releasing the boat from the ropes.

"There's no time!" An officer finally shouted. "Cut the falls! Cut them if you have to!"

"I need a knife!" another man shouted. "I need a knife!" The officer didn't hear him over the screaming people around them.

"Cut the falls now!" he ordered. "Cut them loose!"

Fabrizio, however, did he hear the crewman's desperate shouts for a knife, and ran over to him, taking his pocketknife out.

"Cut those falls!" the officer kept shouting as Fabrizio climbed over the people in the boat to reach them. "Cut those bloody falls!" Fabrizio hastily sawed through the ropes, desperate to save these people.

Cal panicked as he felt water enter the collapsible, and he held the child he was holding even tighter against him as he began to back away in his seat slightly.

No more than a few yards away, Wallace Hartley and the rest of the band finally finished playing, and stared sadly at the mayhem.

"Gentlemen," said Hartley. "It has been a privilege playing with you tonight."


	9. The Power of a Song

**At long last, the day has come. Today officially marks the 100th anniversary of the day the _Titanic_ sank. I ask all of you, my dear readers and reviewers, to stop and take a moment to reflect on the 1500 people who lost their lives on that tragic night. To us, who have seen the movie so many times it is now just a great movie. But to so many others, it was a horrific reality, and is just as much a part of history as any kind of brutal war.**

**Now that that's been said, let's move on to the story. It is very hard for me to finally let go of _The Power of a Song_ after spending so much time on this wonderful story. If you haven't already guessed, I had to spend months watching the movie bit by bit in order to write this word for word from the film. And now, I'm done. There's nothing more to write, edit, or say. And to me, this is a rather emotional moment. I actually cried when I wrote the last scene. And now that this story is over, I ask that you readers that only read by don't review to please review this last chapter. It would mean the world to me if you would.  
><strong>

**And now, I must give a shout out to my best reviewer, SurferGirl3000. You have been with me from the very beginning of this fanfic, and your reviews have always made me feel that this story was worth continuing and shouldn't be abandoned. I hope this last chapter is to your liking!**

**Oh, and to those of you that don't know, I went back and rewrote the first chapter. Please check it out whenever you have the time!**

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><p>Fabrizio continued to cut through the last remaining rope connected to the tiny lifeboat. There were only a few last strands to saw through, and then he could climb in it. He would be rescued, and would be able to get to America, and live the American dream. But right then, a swirl of water splashed over him. He lost his grip on the ropes and was swept away by the current.<p>

He was forced through the waters towards the nearly submerged windows leading to the Grand Staircase. As he was about to be sucked in, he clung onto the frame of the window desperately. He was lucky, and managed to push himself against the ship to free himself from the suction. He gasped for breath, and started swimming furiously through the icy water, only managing to stay afloat because of his life jacket.

Cal, still holding the little girl, scrambled over to where Fabrizio had just been, and climbed onto the ropes to avoid the water. It was a lucky that he did, because moments later, the entire collapsible began to tilt, and completely overturned before righting itself. He jumped down into the boat, set the child down beside him, and grabbed an oar floating nearby. He only allowed a handful of people to climb in, too, before starting to use the oar to swat the distressed men and women away to keep the boat from being swamped.

Jack, Rose, and Clara, meanwhile, were on the opposite end of the ship, and were fighting their way through the crowd to reach the nearest railing. When they managed to make it, they all peered over it, desperate to see how far the level of the water was beneath them. They all gasped. There were less than a few yards left.

"We have to stay on the ship as long as possible!" Jack nearly screamed at Rose and Clara to make sure they heard him over the shouts of everyone around them. "Come on!" He quickly readjusted Clara in his arms so that she would be on his back, and seized Rose's hand before pushing through the panicked, insane mob toward the stern of the ship.

"This way!" he shouted. "Hold the rail!" They were at the B-deck railing that Jack and Clara had climbed over earlier that day. The railing they had snuck over from the second-class decks so they could see Rose. Only now, they had to climb over it from the first-class decks with Rose so they could all survive. Jack set Clara down, and climbed over the railing first before helping her and Rose over. "Come on, Rose, Clara!" he urged. "Jump!" It was hard, because both Rose and Clara were wearing dresses, but they did their best. Rose went first, and leapt furiously over the railing. She landed clumsily into his arms. "Okay, Clair, you next! Come on!" Clara, squeezing her nutcracker to her chest, hesitantly let go of the railing, scared out of her mind. Jack just barely missed her. Luckily, a baker by the name as Charles Joughin saw her fall, and grabbed her before she landed. She knocked him down onto the deck, landing in a heap in his arms.

"I've got you, kid!" the baker shouted, helping Clara back to her feet as Jack and Rose rushed over. "You're alright! Don't worry!" He was about to say something else, but Clara pushed away from him, trying to get to Jack and Rose.

"Big brother! Rose!" she screamed as they ran up to her. They didn't say anything. Jack merely plopped her right onto his back again, and ran with her and Rose through the crowd.

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><p>"Get back!" Cal shouted, swinging the oar dangerously at the people still trying to climb into his boat. Then he spied a man trying to discreetly get in. "No!" he snapped, banging his skull with the paddle. "You'll swamp us!" The ship suddenly groaned, and the sound of something suddenly snapping made him turn. He watched in shocked horror as one of the flooded funnels broke loose from the ropes keeping it upright, and started to descend upon the people swimming frantically beneath it.<p>

Fabrizio was underneath it, swimming like hell through the water in order to survive. He had to live. It was his destiny to make it America. It was his dream to earn enough money to bring his mother overseas and live with him. Then he heard the groan of the steam funnel, and he looked over his shoulder. He screamed along with the twenty or so people around him when he saw the funnel, He shut his eyes as the thousand pounds of metal thundered down on top of him into the belly of the ship.

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><p>Jack, using one hand to push people out of his way, thronged his way through the crowd, clutching Rose's hand tightly. Clara had both her arms around his neck, and was holding onto him and her nutcracker for dear life as they pushed their way to the railing. Around them, men and women were hauling themselves overboard, thinking they would have a better chance at survival off of the ship rather than on it. In front of the trio was a middle-aged man. He was walking in front of them slowly, with a blank expression on his face due to his zombie-like state.<p>

"Ye," he whispered, "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death-"

"You want to walk a little faster through that valley, there, fella?" Jack hollered, throwing the man quoting the bible passage out of his way as they ran past him. By now, the ship was starting to slowly raise the stern section out of the water, and they were struggling to reach the backmost railing in time.

As they used the railing to claw their way aft, they passed an entire group of people who had already given up. They were huddled around a reverend, who was standing before them and quoting the bible like the zombie-like man had. They knelt before him, praying as they sobbed dreadfully as their impending doom approached, or just stared blankly ahead, not wanting to envision what would happen next.

"Holy Mary, Mother of God," the minister said calmly as he held the hands of the people circled around him. "Pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen. Hail Mary, full of grace-"

They didn't wait to hear the end of the prayer. Jack, Rose, and Clara just shoved their way through the cluster of people and kept dashing aft.

"This way!" Jack shouted encouragingly as they scrambled against gravity to reach the railing of the stern. "We're nearly there, Rose, Clair! Come on!" By some miracle, they succeeded in reaching a free area of railing by the Union Jack flagpole, and they flung themselves at it. Jack and Rose panted hard as they clung onto the rail with one arm each, and held each other with their other arm. Clara just wailed in fear as she held onto Jack's neck and her nutcracker tightly.

The ship was now rising even faster out of the North Atlantic. The ships' propellers were at least twenty feet out of the water, and all the people around them were screaming madly. Except for the reverend. Despite the chaos around him, he was still calm, and his voice, cracking with emotion, could be heard across the ship.

"… And I saw a new heaven, and a new Earth," said the holy man, holding onto the pipe beside him with one hand as he continued the prayer. "For the first heaven and the first Earth had passed away, and there was no more sea-"

Jack and Rose were silently listening, and were starting to pray, too, but not Clara. She was glancing frantically at the people around them. A young mother was holding her crying son as she rocked him gently with one hand, and clung onto the railing with the other.

"It'll be over soon." She cooed, hugging him tightly. "It'll all be over soon…" Clara felt tears come to her eyes at the sight, and looked in the opposite direction, only to gasp. Helga, with her mother and father, was clinging onto the railing next to them. Feeling her eyes upon her, Helga looked up, and met Clara's stare.

"Helga!" Clara cried, shocked that she and her parents had escaped from the lower decks. Helga just nodded to her, glad that she, Jack, and Rose were all right before glancing fearfully back down at the minister.

"… And he shall dwell with them," shouted the priest. "And they shall be his people, and God himself shall be with them and be their God…"

Clara looked away from the priest to stare up at the Union Jack flagpole. She was now remembering why it looked so familiar. It had only been two nights ago that she had been here with Jack and Rose, but somehow, it felt like as though it had been a lifetime ago...

"Jack, Rose…" Clara said, smiling up at them. They both glanced down at her. "This is where you two first met…" They smiled, remembering as well, before they both kissed her softly on her forehead. The three of them hugged each other tightly as they listened to the priest finish the prayer.

"And God shall wipe away all the tears from their eyes," the priest nearly whispered. "And there shall be no more death. Neither shall there be sorrow or crying, and neither shall there be any more pain. For the former world has passed away…"

Jack, Rose, and Clara watched in shocked terror as the ship, now at a forty-five degree angle, continued to rise swiftly out of the water, and people, now holding on to anything they could grab, were sliding down the decks, screaming at the top of their lungs as they banged into walls and furniture. Others that were at the railing were now climbing over it, and jumping down into the water below in their panic. They watched as one such man smashed his head against the propeller in mid-jump, dying instantly before he even hit the water. The baker that had saved Clara, Joughin, merely climbed over the railing, but didn't let go. Instead, he reached into his pocket, and pulled out his flask of bourbon. He took a long swig from it. If he was about to die, what better way to die than to die drunk in order not to feel pain?

"Hold on real tight!" Jack shouted as the ship groaned loudly. He and Rose clung desperately onto the railing in order not to fall down, and Clara hugged Jack's neck tightly with one hand, and held her nutcracker firmly with the other. She would not let go of it. She would never let go of it. There was a reason why she hadn't abandoned her toy despite this chaos. Her nutcracker was more than just a toy to Clara. Her nutcracker was the world, her reason for living. Without it, she would seize to be Clara Dawson, the musically gifted child. Her nutcracker was the reason why she even wanted to be a composer. She would never go anywhere without it…

Right then, the lights across the ship flickered momentarily before finally shutting off. People shrieked louder than ever when this happened, but then they screamed like hell at what happened next.

* * *

><p>In the exact center section of the ship, Spicer Lovejoy was clutching onto the railing next to him for dear life. He refused to die tonight. He had caught criminals in the past, sucked the life right out of them. Now he would defy death. He absolutely refused to die tonight.<p>

A sudden loud, tearing sound beneath him made him look down at his feet. He nearly yelled in horror. Not only the deck planks, but also the entire middle area of the ship was starting to split apart in two. The pressure of the water plus the ship rising out of it was too much weight. He grasped onto the railing next to him even tighter, and began to pray for his life.

Unfortunate souls that did not have the luxury of hanging onto the railings were now sliding into the deep abyss of steel and wires. Lovejoy shuddered when he heard their screams as the wires electrocuted them, killing them instantaneously. Then, the stern section of the ship, the side he was on, started to fall. His surprise made his grip on the railing slip, and he started to fall down the long, dark crevasse of burning wires and jagged steel.

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><p>Jack, Rose, and Clara screamed bloody murder, as did the hundreds of people surrounding them. The cracking of the ship had abruptly stopped the stern from continuing to rise out of the water. Instead, it started plummeting back into the ocean, leveling out. Once the aftershock subsided, many people started to cheer, thinking this meant they were saved. Alas, they were deadly wrong. The horror had only just begun. Mere seconds after the stern had flattened out, it slowly rose back up out of the water again, pulled by the weight of the flooded bow that had somehow remained attached.<p>

Jack, Rose, and Clara clung onto the railing tightly in fear. Everyone around them was losing their grip on whatever they were holding, and starting to slide down the deck, falling into the gaping hole rapidly filling up with water. Jack watched them in pure terror. He could recognize that they would be next if they stayed where they were.

"We have to move!" he shouted, letting go of the railing with one hand to climb over it. Clara's grip around his neck tightened. She didn't know what her brother was doing, but she could only pray she would not accidentally fall because of it. Once they were both safely over the railing, Jack gave Rose his hand. "Give me your hand, I'll pull you over!"

"I can't!" she shouted back, thinking he had gone mad.

"Come on, give me your hand!" Trusting Jack to know what he was doing, Rose reluctantly let go of the railing, and grabbed hold of his outstretched hand. He started to haul her over the railing. "I've got you!" He shouted over the deafening din of the groaning ship and the screaming crowd. "I won't let go! Come on, I've got you!" She did as he asked, and within moments, all three of them were safely on the other side of the railing. It was good they were, too. During the twenty seconds it took for Jack, Rose, and Clara to climb over, the bow had pulled the stern almost completely vertical.

"What's happening, big brother?" Clara screamed.

"I-I don't know," he shouted back honestly. "I don't know!"

The stern was now completely sticking straight up in the air. It bobbed gracefully along in the sea, slowly filling up with water.

Jack, Rose, and Clara could only stare fearfully down. Several hundred feet below them was the black, icy ocean, waiting to swallow them and the terrified people clinging onto the railing around them up into its dark depths. As though their words had the magic touch, the ship made a sudden, sharp jerk.

"Hold on!" Jack shouted, clinging onto the railing tightly with his free hand.

"Help me, please!" they could hear one terrified man scream out as he clung onto the Union Jack flagpole with all his might with both his hands and feet. "Someone, help me!" Within seconds after he screamed out his pleas for help, his fingers finally lost their grip on the steel pole. Like so many others, he plummeted down into the murky depths of the North Atlantic, screaming as he banged into the other people and sides of the ship while he fell.

Too saddened by what had happened to the poor man, Clara turned her head to look at Helga. She wasn't strong enough to climb over the railings, but by some miracle, she was still holding on. She felt Clara's gaze on her again, and silently pleaded for her to help her get over. Clara nodded, and tried to carefully maneuver her way closer to her. She was about to reach out to her, when Helga's fingers slipped away from the metal railings. Clara watched in shock as her friend screamed to the heavens while she fell down into the unforgiving, murderous black sea.

"Helga…" she whispered, not wanting to believe what she had just witnessed. She didn't know if Fabrizio was still alive or not, but she prayed that if he was, she wouldn't have to be the one to break the news that his sweet Helga was now dead.

Rose, on the other hand, was looking in the opposite direction. Her eyes were fixed on Joughin. Like them, he too had successfully managed to climb over the railings, and he was still drinking down the rest of his bourbon, hoping he was now too drunk to understand what was going on when he finally died.

Both Rose and Clara were brought back to reality by the ship suddenly sinking down. Jack held onto his two most precious girls tightly as the ship began its final plunge.

"This is it!" he shouted over the roar of pounding water as _Titanic_ dropped rapidly down into the ocean.

"Oh, God!" Rose screamed, terrified beyond her own belief. "Oh, God! Oh, God!"

"Hold on! Both of you hold on!" Jack shouted reassuringly.

"We're going to die!" Clara wailed, burying her face into the crevice of Jack's neck as she hugged him and her nutcracker tightly. "We're really going to die!"

"No, don't even think that!" Jack shouted. "We're going to make it, you hear?"

They were now only a few hundred yards above the water, and approaching it faster with ever passing second.

"The ship is gonna suck us down!" Jack continued, ignoring the icy spray hitting his face. "Both of you, take a deep breath when I say!" Rose and Clara nodded. It was all they could manage to do in their terrified state. "Kick for the surface, and keep kicking!" he instructed. "Rose, do not let go of my hand! Clara, hold on real tight to my neck!" They both nodded again, staring fearfully at the swirling vortex of icy water. "The three of us are going to make it! Do you both trust me?"

"I trust you!" Rose shouted.

"So do I!" Clara screamed. "I trust you, big brother!" Jack nodded and stared back down at the water.

"Ready… ready... Now!"

Jack, Rose, and Clara sucked in as much oxygen into their lungs as they could as they plummeted deep into the ocean with _Titanic._ Jack and Rose let go of the railing, and Clara hung on tightly to both Jack and her nutcracker. Like Jack had predicted, the suction of the ship was forcing them down, and it took all their willpower just to hang on to each other. Jack and Rose kicked for the surface, grasping each other's hands as hard as they could. Clara clung onto her brother's neck, hoping she wasn't choking him with how hard she was hanging on. Suddenly, another man knocked into her small form, and she felt her nutcracker start to slip out of her grasp. Alarmed, she unintentionally let go of Jack to hold onto her toy with both hands.

The moment she realized what she had done, she sucked in a ton of icy water from screaming as she was swept away by the current from Jack and Rose. She screamed even harder as she tried to expel the water from her lungs, but it only caused her to suck in more. She was about to scream again, but then she remembered what Jack had said before: Kick for the surface and keep kicking! Fighting the urge to keep shouting, she forced her legs to kick as hard as they could through the artic cold water toward the surface. Her head finally burst forth from the surface of the waves, and she coughed up the water that she had swallowed. She struggled to breath. The water in her lungs combined with the freezing air was making it difficult for her to focus. When she at last came to her senses, she gasped. She was surrounded by over a thousand of terrified people, moaning and thrashing in pain as the brutally cold water of the Atlantic Ocean hit their bodies. It was nearly impossible to tell anyone apart.

"Jack! Rose!" Clara screamed, trying very hard not to panic. She couldn't find them, nor did they respond over the din of the surrounding screams. Men and women, young and old, adults and children, had lost all sense of reality from the torturous pain, and were clawing their way on top of anything they could grab: Floating barrels, tables, and deck chairs. Just anything they could find. Even onto other people, they were so desperate to survive. "Jack! Rose!" Clara kept on screaming. "Jack! Rose!" Her desperate screams were drowned by the other shouts in the air. Clutching her nutcracker tightly with one hand, she started to weakly swim through the people in attempt to find them.

"Jack! Rose!" she continued to scream again and again as she paddled through the water. As she swam, she passed by a man who, like her, did not have a lifejacket. He was gasping for air, struggling to stay afloat despite the severe torment he was enduring. He noticed Clara as she swam by, and completely lost hold of whatever sanity he still had left. With an estranged cry, he launched himself on top of her, forcing her to be immersed in the water in his efforts to stay afloat.

Horrified, Clara fought against him to resurface. "No-!" she tried to scream, struggling to keep her head above the seawater. The man ignored her pleas and forced her back under again. Clara started to scream, water gushing back into her lungs as she shoved and kicked at the insane man, desperate to free herself from him. "Jack! Rose!" she screamed over and over again. "Help me! Help me!"

"Clara!" cried a familiar voice. Clara struggled to turn her head. To her great relief and joy, she saw her brother and Rose swimming frantically toward her.

"Jack! Rose! Help-" her screams were cut off by the man pushing her head beneath the surface of the water yet again. Seeing the wild man trying to drown her, both Jack and Rose's facial expressions became angry and protective.

"Get off her!" Rose shouted, trying to yank the man off Clara's tiny body. The man couldn't even hear her in his crazed state-of-mind. He just pushed her away as he kept on trying to drown Clara.

"Get your hands off my sister!" Jack all but screamed as he punched him square in the face, knocking him out instantly. Freed from his grip, Clara pushed her way back to the surface, coughing out tons of water.

"Jack! Rose!" Clara cried, hugging them both tightly.

"Clara!" Jack shouted, he and Rose hugging her back.

"Are you hurt?" Rose shouted, needing to make sure that Clara could hear her over the noise. She shook her head weakly.

"No," she said. Rose hugged her tighter. Jack, although also overjoyed that Clara was okay, knew they had to keep going.

"Swim Clair, Rose!" he shouted. "I need you both to swim!" He quickly took hold of their hands, and started pulling them through the water. "Come on, keep swimming!" It was too hard for poor Clara, who had already nearly drowned twice in the past few minutes. She let go of his hand to catch her breath.

"Clara! Come on!" Rose screamed, trying to grab her hand again. Clara pulled away.

"It's… it's so cold," she panted, struggling to stay floating. "I need to rest…"

Jack just plopped her on his back. "Hold on to me! Keep swimming!" he shouted. She weakly nodded, but the moment he tried to start swimming again, her grip loosened, and she fell right off again.

"Both… both of you keep going!" she shouted. "I'll… I'll be right behind…"

Seeing as she couldn't keep up, they both nodded, and swam slightly slower in between the wailing people, fighting their way through the freezing water to find something to float on. When they were all a little ways apart from the rest of the screaming mob, Rose spotted some debris floating nearby that looked to be a wooden door with oriental carvings all over it. It had obviously been from first-class.

"Jack, Clara, over there!" she yelled, pointing toward it. They followed the direction of her finger and saw what she was referring to. They both nodded, and started swimming quickly over to it.

"Come on, Clair!" Jack shouted, seeing that she was lagging behind again.

"I'm… I'm coming! Hang on!" she called back, swimming with all her might.

"Keep swimming!" Rose said encouragingly. "Come on!" Clara nodded, and tried to swim faster. Jack and Rose reached it first, though.

"Here, get on it," Jack said, helping Rose climb on top of it before getting on as well. Then he turned to help Clara get on as well, offering her his hand. "Come on, get on top." Clara took his hand, and started to pull herself on, but it tilted and started submerging, and all three of them fell back off it. Jack and Rose screamed in shock as they resurfaced. He immediately helped her to get back on. "Here, stay on it! Stay on, Rose!" he shouted. When he turned to help Clara get on it, too, she was nowhere to be seen.

"Clara?" he shouted, fearing she might have been so weak she couldn't even resurface now. He was about to suck in some air and dive beneath the water to try and find her, when he was suddenly pushed out of it from underneath him, and onto the door. Surprised, he forced his way on top of it, gasping for breath. Clara emerged from the water moments later, struggling to dispel the artic waters out of her mouth as she breathed the nipping cold air. When she finally managed to breathe normally again, she nodded to herself, knowing what she had to do. All throughout tonight, Jack and Rose had risked everything to keep her safe: Jack had carried her on his back down in the Master of Arms office so as to protect from the piercing cold water; Rose had cut them both free from the handcuffs around the water pipe so they wouldn't drown; Jack had broken through a locked gate with a bench, and then again by finding the set of keys; they had both tried to get her into a lifeboat, and then they rescued her from the insane Caledon Hockley who had tried to murder her for whatever reason he had. But now, it was her turn to save them. She would stay in the water, sacrificing her life for theirs. It didn't even bother her that she would most likely die from the cold. She was prepared to do so if it meant they could live on and continue loving each other, because that meant her song could live on, too. It had to be finished, but it would never be if either of them were to die tonight. Her brother and Rose were her entire world, and she would never forgive herself if either of them died instead of her. She swam around the debris so that she could be face-to-face with Jack and Rose, who were both lying on their stomachs, and gripped each of their hands tightly with one of hers, and used the hand still clutching her nutcracker to keep her upper body somewhat floating on top of the door. Jack and Rose stared at her, heartbreak evident in their eyes. A sudden splashing behind her made Clara turn around. A man was swimming as hard as he could toward them, only managing to stay afloat because of the life vest he had on. Clara realized he was desperate to get on the door, too, and raised her hand to him, signaling for him to stop where he was.

"It's just enough for this man and lady!" she told him. "You'll push it under, sir!"

"L-let me try at least," the man spluttered out, coughing out some water, "or I'll die soon!"

"You'll die a lot sooner if you come closer!" Clara replied, glaring warningly at the man. He stared at her for a moment, and then slowly nodded; realizing the child in front of him was dead serious to protect the two people on top of the door. Maybe they were her siblings. Maybe they were two dear friends of hers. Maybe they were complete strangers to the little girl, like how he was with her. He may never know, but he did know how to be courteous. Clara slowly relaxed when she saw him turn away.

"Yes, yes, I see," he replied, starting to swim away. "Good luck to you, then."

"And to you," Clara replied.

"God bless!" The man said over his shoulder before disappearing back into the mob of thrashing people. Clara slowly turned back around to face Jack and Rose.

"Wh-what about you?" Rose asked worriedly, not wanting anything to happen to the sweet girl.

"I'll b-be fine…" Clara all but whispered, breathing warm air on their clasped hands. "I-I'm a survivor, re-remember? A Chippewa F-Fall's Dawson…"

"N-no, Clara!" Jack struggled to say. "Th-the three of us have come this f-far already! I-I won't l-lose you! You can st-still get on!"

"I'll p-push it under…" she said faintly, not wanting to put either of them into danger. The cold was getting to her, and making it difficult for her to speak. "L-like I told that man… i-it's only big enough f-for you and R-Rose…"

"Th-then I'll get off!" Jack said, trying to carefully slide off the door. With a cry, Clara threw herself at the side of the door, pushing him back on. The door swayed slightly, but still stayed afloat.

"Don't d-do that!" Clara nearly shrieked, swimming back around to face him and Rose. "You don't h-have a life vest, big br-brother! You're t-too weak to stay fl-floating! I'm only floating r-right now because I'm h-holding onto the d-door!"

"I-I'll get off then!" Rose said.

"N-no!" Clara bawled, clutching hers and Jack's hands strongly. "D-don't you d-dare!"

"But… b-but Clara-!" Rose tried to protest.

"N-no!" Clara said firmly, looking them both in the eye. "If… If y-you both really l-love me, stay on the d-door… please!"

Jack and Rose stared at each other for a moment. Clara really did love them so much. She wouldn't let either of them get off this door so she could get on. She was determined to save them, no matter what. They looked back at her, and nodded desolately.

"It'll be al-alright, now…" Jack whispered, rubbing his hands over Clara's arms to keep her warm. She sighed, feeling the warmth spread throughout her body. He felt his tears freeze on his cheeks. It broke his heart to see Clara, his only little sister, shivering to death in this icy water. He wished to no extent that he could just take all the pain she was enduring right now away, and put it on his shoulders to bear, on top of the pain he was feeling, too. The thought of how agonizingly painful that would be didn't even faze him. She was his flesh and blood, his only family. He loved her more than he loved himself. She was much too fragile, too little to be able to survive going through these extreme conditions. For the first time since having met Rose, he regretted falling in love with her, because if it weren't for the love they felt for each other, Clara would be safely in a lifeboat, at least somewhat warmer than she was right now.

"St-stay strong, Cl-Clara…" Rose stuttered, giving her knuckles a gentle kiss. Clara gave her a weak smile and nodded. Rose could only tear up. Clara had been so determined to make sure that the three of them stayed together, she had jumped off the lifeboat to get back onto the ship. Rose loved that about her. She was so strong-willed, and had such a kind, determined spirit inside her. Children like her didn't appear every day. She was truly one of a kind. She and Jack hadn't even really convinced her to get in the boat, when she thought back on it, now. They had only convinced her enough so she wouldn't fight against Lightoller when he grabbed her to get her in. Rose gently caressed her cheek with her free hand, remembering how shocked and horrified she had been when she and Jack had witnessed Clara jump back onto the sinking ship. She remembered kissing each of her cheeks in a nonstop frenzy when she had come running back to them. She had been so overjoyed that Clara was all right, but her answer of why she had jumped back onto _Titanic_ had shocked her even more:

"_You guys jump, I jump, right?" she asked, __reciting the words she had heard them both say while__ attempting to smile._

And that was the answer as to why she was out here with them in the middle of the North Atlantic Ocean, literally freezing to death as they pondered whether or not the other boats would come back to rescue them.

One man about a few yards away from them, Chief Officer Wilde, was blowing on his whistle frantically, desperate for the lifeboats to return.

"Return- the boats…!" he softly shouted, clutching onto the deck chair he was floating on as tight as he could. Jack and Rose swallowed at the sight of him. He was already succumbing to the extreme cold. Clara sensed they were both so worried about her, and decided she had to say something to try and convince them that there was still hope, and to ease the uncomfortable guilt they were feeling for being on the door instead of her.

"Th-the boats are coming back f-for us, Jack, R-Rose," she gulped. "I… I can h-hold on a little l-longer… they had to r-row away from the suction… but n-now they'll be coming b-back…" She shivered uncontrollably as she said this, her blonde hair starting to frost slightly.

Jack forced his blue lips to smile at Clara's determination to survive, and squeezed her hand tightly as his other hand tried to keep rubbing her arm in order to keep her warm. Rose kissed her knuckles, blowing hot air on their linked hands. Not wanting to be the only one to be receiving warmth, Clara tried to return their kindness, breathing hot air on their joined hands. It was difficult, because they were all trying to make small movements in order not to tip the debris back into the freezing water, but they managed, somehow.

"C-come back!" they could hear one women scream nearby. "For God's sake!"

"Please!" another man shouted. "H-help us!"

Jack and Rose forced themselves not to cry. Despite Clara's optimism, they had but slim hopes that any of them would survive. All they could do now was wait.

* * *

><p>In Lifeboat Six, Ruth held her hands over her ears, trying to drown out the distressed screams. She couldn't bear to listen. What if Rose was one of them? What if she was out there right now screaming at the top of her lungs, begging to be rescued? Next to her, Molly Brown was trying to convince the officer in charge of their boat to have them go back and rescue some people, but he was refusing.<p>

"You don't understand," Officer Hitchens said gently, trying to reason with the broad-shouldered first-class woman. "If we go back, they'll swamp the boat! They'll pull us right down, I tell yeh!" Molly Brown glared at him as she got to her feet. She wasn't going to stand down without a fight.

"Knock it off, yer scarin' me!" She snapped sharply. Then she turned to the other women in the boat. "Come on girls, grab an oar, let's go!"

"Are yeh outta yer mind?" Hitchens said, starting to lose his patience with Molly. "We're in the middle of the North Atlantic! Now, d'yeh people want to live, or d'yeh want to die?"

Hearing his words, all the women aside from Molly just shivered as they huddled together, not reaching for the oars. Molly just stared at them in disbelief.

"I don't understand a one of yeh!" Molly said, looking at each of crying women's faces. "What's the matter with yeh? It's your men out there!" One woman literally began to sob uncontrollably, but she still didn't reach for the oars. Molly couldn't help but glare at her. "There's plenty of room for more!" Hitchens finally lost his cool with Molly's insistence.

"And there'll be one less on this boat," he nearly shouted, "if you don't shut that hole in your face!"

Molly glared angrily at him, but sat back down beside Ruth, who was just staring sadly out at the thrashing bodies as she kept her hands over her ears. She had wanted to stand up beside Molly, and encourage the others that they should go back, but the fear of reaching it there too late and only finding Rose's frozen corpse was what kept her quiet. She would die from shock and grief if she were to behold such a sight.

Molly Brown wasn't the only person amongst the nearby boats that wanted to return, however. Two hundred yards away from the thrashing bodies was Lifeboat One, and in it were only ten or so people, among which were Sir Cosmo and Lucille Lady Duff-Gordon. The boat was only two-thirds full. They could easily fit more people.

"We should do something," said the voice of one of the engine room workers on the dingy collapsible, Charles Hendrickson. Lucille's hand squeezed Cosmo's tightly, and she pleadingly stared at him. Seeing the terrified look in his wife's eyes, Sir Cosmo hesitantly shook his head.

"It's out of the question," he said firmly to Hendrickson. Intimidated by the authority in his voice, the others in the boat, passengers and crewmen alike, slowly complied as they huddled together guiltily, wishing and praying that the horrifying screams would soon cease.

At that same moment, Fifth-Officer Lowe had taken the liberty of stepping up and taking charge of his boat. He was busy instructing the other few crewmen in his boat, Lifeboat Fourteen, to secure their boat to the other three that had managed to row up to them: Lifeboats Ten and Twelve, and Collapsible D.

"Bring in your oars over there. Tie these two boats together as well," he called out to the few men tying the boats together. "Now, make sure that's tied up nice and tight."

Lowe glanced hesitantly over his shoulder at the tortured souls in the distance, knowing what he had to do.

"Right, listen to me, men!" He shouted to the men not only in his boat, but also in all the boats. "We have to go back!" Everyone, men, women, and children alike, stared at him as though he were insane, but he paid no mind to them. Ever since he had been instructed by Lightoller to take charge of this boat, he had intended to go back. He would never be able to live with himself if he were to allow the people in the water to freeze to death. He was quite sure he would be mad to go back immediately, and that was why he had hesitated until now to say anything. It was cruel to say, but he had to allow some people to succumb to the cold. If they were to have gone back the moment the ship went down, they would have had every person in the water swamping the boat. But within the first five minutes of _Titanic_ having completely sunk beneath the waves, the screams had somewhat subsided. They could risk going back, now.

"I want to transfer all the women and children from this boat, into that boat right now," he said, pointing to Lifeboat Twelve. "As quick as you can, please. Let's create some space over there! Move forward and out!" The women and children in Lifeboat Fourteen were somewhat hesitant to do as he said, but they did it nonetheless. He was a ship's officer, and he had a look about him right now that made it quite clear to them all that he would not take no for an answer. One woman in a shawl made a beeline for Lifeboat Twelve, and stumbled as she tried to climb into it. Lifeboat Fourteen rocked slightly when she slipped.

"Not too quickly, madam," Lowe said gently, placing his hand on her shoulder. She moved at the exact same moment, and his hand accidentally slid her shawl off. Everyone in all four of the lifeboats was shocked when they saw the shawled figure was actually an Italian immigrant man. He had disguised himself as a woman in order to escape the sinking ship. Lowe was enraged at the sight of him. This coward had taken the spot that one of the desperate souls right now that were screaming in agony right now had needed. He punched in square in the nose in blind fury.

"How dare you!" he shouted in disgust as the Italian slowly stood back up. He tried to say something in his native tongue, but Lowe just shoved him toward Lifeboat Twelve. "Get in there!" He shot one last look of anger at the man before turning back to the women that still had to get onto the other boats. "Come on, this way, madam."

* * *

><p>Jack, Rose, and Clara drifted under the millions of stars up above as they shuddered violently from the cold. It had been at least seven minutes since <em>Titanic<em> had gone down, and as the time had ticked past, the screams around them had lessened. Slowly, at first, but then faster and faster, and all the three of them could make out now were a few faint shouts.

"Please…!" came one distinctive yell of the few random ones they could understand. "C-come back…!"

"It's getting quiet." Jack stated in a shaky tone. His voice was starting to wear out. Rose weakly nodded at the depressingly truth.

"I-It's just gonna t-take them… a c-couple minutes t-to get… th-the boats organized…." Clara said optimistically, breathing hard as she forced her blue lips to move as she clutched their hands and her nutcracker tightly. The cold was making it very difficult for the three of them to speak at this point.

Jack and Rose merely frowned. They both knew that there weren't going to be any boats. They had been waiting far too long. They could both see Chief Officer Wilde, who had been blowing his whistle furiously just a few minutes ago, but now he looked as though he was in a peaceful slumber. He had lost his battle against death, in reality.

"I d-don't know about either of you…" Clara suddenly continued between her chattering teeth, glancing up at them. "B-but I intend to w-write a… st-strongly worded letter to the W-White-Star-Line about all this… About m-mocking that st-stupid book…" Clara took a deep breath before shivering fiercely. Then she smiled as she gently shut her eyes. She was completely exhausted, and just wanted this torture to be over with for good.

Rose tried to smile at her comment, but couldn't because of numb her cheeks had become from the cold. Then she attempted to move her head to look at Jack. He was gently caressing Clara's wet, frozen hair, doing his best to comfort her. Feeling her gaze, he turned to look at Rose, and gave her a weak smile. She forced her lips to turn up slightly. They loved each other so much, but fate was going to force them to be separated. Jack and Rose had never even had the chance to tell the other of how they felt, and they didn't have to; they were soul mates. They were able to understand what the other thought just by looking into each other's eyes. Destiny had brought them together on _Titanic,_ but now it was going to tear them apart by having it sink. How unfair it truly was. They had fallen in love only two days ago, and it had only been a few hours ago that they had expressed that love. It was almost astonishing that they had been so carefree and happy when they had first kissed for the first time just that afternoon at the bow of the ship. As much as Jack and Rose didn't want to admit it, they knew that there wasn't going to be any boats to rescue them, and that was why they both said what they did next. It wasn't how either of them would have ever dreamed of telling the other, but they would have to say it now, because all of the odds were against them surviving. It was the most difficult thing for Jack and Rose to tell each other, because they both meant it from the bottom of their hearts.

"I love you, Jack."

"I love you, too, Rose."

Clara's brain was working much slower than usual due to the freezing temperatures, and she was trying to make sense of what had made her brother and Rose confess their feelings to one another right then. She could tell they were in love, even if they hadn't told each other, but why was it important to tell one another right then? There was going to be other opportunities, right? But then it all made sense: They were telling each other now because they were both giving up. She would have screamed from the shock if she had had any strength left. She squeezed their joined hands to get their attention. Somehow, she had to convince them. She had to convince them not to lose hope. They loved each other so much, and she wouldn't let them throw that away just because of this horrible tragedy. Her song would die with them if they didn't survive.

"D-don't you two do that…" Clara began in a hoarse, but firm voice. She almost sounded angry that Jack and Rose were even thinking that thought. "Don't s-say your goodbyes… neither of you… Not yet… do you both understand me?"

"Clara… it's so cold…" Jack whispered, shivering to stay warm. It was a struggle for him to listen to what she was saying, because all he could concentrate on was the pain from the freezing waters.

"L-listen, big brother, you and R-Rose are gonna g-get out of here…" Clara told her, she herself believing the powerful statement. "You're b-both gonna go on… and y-you're gonna have… l-lots of babies…" she continued, managing a lovely grin. "And… And you guys are gonna watch them grow… Y-you two are gonna die as old… as old married f-folks… warm in bed t-together… So not here…" Jack and Rose felt their hearts ache at Clara's words. They both so badly wanted to believe her, but how could they? If any boats were coming back to rescue them, they would have come by now. Clara forced herself to go on, whispering the next sentences with shocking determination so Jack and Rose could understand how important it was to her for both of them to survive. "Not this night… Not like this… Do you both understand me?" She swallowed thickly once she finished, trying to sooth her aching, frozen throat. The cold was slowly engulfing all of them, and it was like they were suffocating themselves whenever they tried to speak.

Jack so badly wanted to believe his little sisters' words, but everything seemed so helpless. It was so sweet of Clara to try and fill him and Rose with hope right now, but all he could think about was how unbearably cold it was.

"Cl-Clair, I can't even feel my body," he said weakly. He could see his misty breath puff out in front of his face as he spoke.

"And I c-can't speak any l-louder than this," Rose added in a quivering whisper.

Clara forced herself to tighten her grip on their hands, willing both of them to feel it as her eyes brimmed with tears. She wanted, no, _needed_ them to understand how important it was to her for the two of them to survive, and how wonderful it had been for her to watch them fall in love. She went on with what she was saying with passion ringing in her voice.

"J-Jack, Rose, I was wrong… from the very b-beginning," she said. Jack and Rose stared at her, puzzled by what she meant. She was truly having trouble getting this out. Her words sounded choked up in her throat, like she was trying to hold back great sobs. _"Titanic…_ wasn't cursed… because it brought you two together… Winning those tickets, big brother… was the best thing that could have ever happened to us… I got to watch you fall in love with Rose… And I got the opportunity to start writing a beautiful love song for you both…" She whispered, forcing herself to smile. "So I'm thankful for that Jack, Rose… I'm so thankful…" Jack and Rose couldn't help but smile back as they heard her touching words. They had seen how her blue lips had trembled from the cold as she spoke, and they could feel how weak her breath was on their faces. The freezing temperatures of the waters were slowly making their way to Clara's heart, but she had to keep going, for the sake of their love.

"B-both… Both of you…" she attempted to say as she repositioned her upper body on the door a little with the hand holding onto her nutcracker. Her other hand gripped Jack and Rose's linked hands as hard as she could while she looked both of them in the eyes, needing them to see how desperate she was for both of them to understand. "Both of you… must do me this honor… Jack, Rose, you both must promise me… that you'll both survive… That neither one of you will… give up… Neither one of you…" Again, Clara was choking up at her own words as her tears started to flow down her tiny cheeks, freezing within seconds. "Promise me… that my love song for you both will live on… that it will be finished… It can't ever be finished… if either of you die… My song… my song for you both… It has to be finished!"

Tears started to gather in Jack and Rose's eyes, too, and both of them so badly wished to cry, to let their emotions take over. But their throats were in so much pain, that all they could manage to let out were gasping sobs as they saw how much effort it was taking out of Clara to say this.

"No matter what happens… no matter how hopeless…" Clara let out a painfully big breath of air as she went on. "Promise me now, Jack, Rose… and never let go of that promise…" Jack and Rose could see the painted determination on her face, her tearful turquoise blue eyes that was pleading with both them to survive. They could see how meant this meant to her. For her sake, they would promise her this.

"I promise…" Rose whispered hoarsely.

"So do I…" Jack whispered, clutching Clara's hand as tight as he could. "I promise…"

"Never let go…" Clara whispered, wanting them to always remember this moment.

"We will never let go, Clara…" Jack said softly as he promised the most meaningful promise he could ever make.

"That's right, Clara…" Rose said, kissing her forehead gently. "We will never let go…"

Relieved that they had did this for her, Clara gently kissed their knuckles in gratitude as she smiled the biggest smile she could make.

"Thank you…" Clara whispered. "Thank you…" Jack and Rose smiled back at her. "While we wait," she said in an ever so soft voice. "Will… will you both sing for me?" Jack and Rose nodded.

"Of course," Rose whispered, stroking her wet hair out of her eyes.

"Sure," Jack told her. "Get nice and comfortable…" Clara nodded, and shut her heavy eyelids and held her nutcracker tightly as Jack and Rose turned onto their backs to look up the night sky, both of them still clutching onto Clara's little hand. With an ever so slight nod to each other, they both softly began to sing.

* * *

><p>Fifth-Officer Lowe held out his flashlight in front of him, illuminating the dark waters and floating bodies and debris as Lifeboat Fourteen slowly rowed to the sea of frozen corpses.<p>

"Right ahead, sir," one of the crewmen in the boat shouted as they approached. Lowe nodded in reply.

"Do you see any moving?" he called out.

"No, sir," said one of the rowers as he carefully maneuvered his oar around the first dead body. "None moving, sir."

"Check them!" Lowed shouted, determined to save at least one life. "Bring that oar up here. Check them, to make sure!" One crewman turned to the first dead body he saw near the boat and grabbed the man by his lifejacket. He nearly screamed. The man was ghostly white with death, and his lifeless eyeballs seemed to be staring straight into his soul.

"These are dead, sir," He said, gently letting the man go. He knew he would be haunted for the rest of his life by the memory of the frozen corpse.

"Ahead, easy," said Lowe, still looking for any sign of movement among the bodies.

"Careful with the oars." Said the crewman who had looked at the man with the open eyes. "Don't hit them." The rowers nodded as Lowe shouted out to the quiet sea,

"Is there anyone alive out there?" Silence responded. Lowe gulped and called out again, "Can anyone hear me? Is there anyone alive out there?" His voice echoed in the still night, and again, there was no reply. Lowe was about to shout out again, when he saw something that made his very bones chill.

Floating in the water beside the boat was the corpse a young woman in a lifebelt, her arms securely wrapped around a bundled up, frozen infant. Lowe shed tears at the sight of the mother and child. This was, without a doubt, the worst moment of his entire life.

"We waited too long…" he murmured to himself, still staring at tragic sight. He shut his eyes tightly and turned back to the other crewmen. "Keep checking them! Keep looking!" He screamed. He had failed so many people by waiting as long as he had to order the boat to go back, but there had to be at least one soul out there that was still alive. He had to save at least one life.

"Is there anyone alive out there?" Lowe shouted out to the floating corpses in the water as Lifeboat Fourteen continue to search for anyone still alive. "Can anyone hear me?"

A disgruntled shout not to far away made every head in the boat turn, searching for the person who had called out to them.

"Over there!" cried one of the men, pointing off into the distance. Lowe flicked his flashlight in the direction of the man's finger. A Chinese man was waving to them as he floated on the large dining room table from first-class he had found, still shouting to them in Chinese.

"I see him!" Lowe shouted. "Pull! Pull! Pull! Put your backs into it!" The foreigner kept shouting to them as he reached out his hand so they could haul him into the boat. "Bring him in! Help him out! Bring him in, quickly!"

"Aye, sir!" shouted one of the crewmen as he the others pulled him into the lifeboat.

"Now, cover him with those blankets," Lowe ordered. "Keep him warm!"

"Here's the blankets!" shouted one of the crewmen as he handed three blankets to the two men that were trying to assist the Chinese immigrant to sit up in the boat. "Cover him up!" They proceeded to bundle him up. The foreigner sighed in content, feeling the warmth of the blankets.

"Right," said Lowe, turning the attention of the others back on him. "There may still be others. Keep looking!"

* * *

><p>Jack and Rose stared motionlessly up at the great canopy of stars directly above them, reflecting upon the millpond surface of the black sea as they floated upon the wooden door. Their hands were locked together with Clara's, whose upper body was slumped over the edge of the door as she weakly held their hands and her nutcracker. Their voices had long since given out from singing to her. It had seemed like hours ago that <em>Titanic<em> had sunk and they were forced to endure this excruciating pain, but it couldn't have been that long. With every minute that ticked by, they felt themselves grower weaker and weaker, and by now they couldn't even scream from the pain because it was simply too hard on their frozen throats. It was driving them both mad.

They were both as white as freshly fallen snow, like the other dead bodies around them, and their only focus was on the infinite cosmos up above. They briefly glanced at each other, and then looked back up at the stars. They both knew they were dying. They had waited far too long for a boat to come back, and they were both going to die any second now. They wouldn't be able to fulfill the promise they had made to Clara.

Just then, a great streak of light dashed across the dark sky. A shooting star. Jack and Rose couldn't help but frown when they saw it. Somewhere out here, amongst these frozen bodies, one unfortunate soul had finally lost their battle against the frigid temperature of the water, and was now on their way to heaven. They would be joining that poor person any time now. At least it wasn't Clara. Clara… that reminded Jack and Rose of what she had requested, and they softly began to sing again.

"_Come Josephine,"_ Rose sang in a whisper, barely registering how hoarse her voice was, now. _"In my flying machine…"_

"_And it's up she goes,"_ Jack sang, barely moving his frozen lips._ "Up she goes…"_

"_Come, Josephine,"_ they sang together in a barely audible whisper as they both felt the white light of heaven hit their faces._ "In my flying machine…"_ Then they both heard something: A vague, far off voice amongst the stillness of the night.

"Hello… anyone hear me…? Is anyone… out there? Hello!" They both realized the light they were feeling was an actual, faint light out here in the real world. With much effort, Jack and Rose forced their heads to turn in the direction of the light, ripping away their hair that was frozen on the wood of the door. There was a black mass sailing through the water, and the light was moving along with it. At first, Jack and Rose wasn't even sure what the thing was, but then, to their great relief and joy, they realized that it was one of the lifeboats. A lifeboat had actually come back for them! They had survived the sinking! They were going to live to see the next day! They were going to be able to keep their promise to Clara! Clara… they both turned onto their stomachs to see if she had seen the boat, too. She hadn't. She had been so tired, she had fallen asleep in the water, and it was only because Jack and Rose were hanging onto her hand that she hadn't floated away. Their hearts softened as they saw how the frozen crystals in Clara's hair framed her cute face. They hated to wake her from her peaceful slumber, but it was for life's sake.

"Clara," Jack whispered, gently shaking her wrist with his and Rose's hand to wake her. The metal of the handcuff on her wrist jingled, but she didn't so much as stir.

"Clara," said Rose in a somewhat louder voice, as she used her other hand to shake her little arm. She still didn't move.

"Clair," Jack said, shaking her wrist harder, "Clair, there's a boat…" Clara just continued to dream on.

"Clara," Rose whispered, shaking her arm as hard as she could. "Clara?"

"Clara?" Jack said, shaking her with all his might. "Clara?

Clara's head wobbled lifelessly upon the wooden door, only moving from the force of their shakes, but she still didn't awaken. Her face was whiter than either of theirs was, and the hand holding her nutcracker was now only holding it because of the ice frozen between her hand and the toy. Jack and Rose slowly began to realize why she wouldn't respond.

"Clara!" Rose cried out, shaking her frantically.

"Clara!" Jack cried as loud as possible, desperately praying for this not to be true, that his only little sister was still here with them. "There's a boat, Clara!" There was no movement from the little girl.

Jack and Rose slowly burst into tears from the little strength they had left. This couldn't be real. Sweet little Clara was now just another of the frozen corpses floating around them. She was gone. Gone forever. They slowly laid their heads back down on the wooden door and kept on crying bitterly as the lifeboat rowed past, not noticing the heartbroken couple mourning over the life of the little girl in the water. After several moments, though, Jack and Rose's eyes snapped open, remembering what they had promised Clara: They had to survive. They had to finish her beloved song. They had to get the attention of the boat.

"Come back!" Rose shouted hoarsely, she and Jack leaning up slightly to see the boat. It was practically invisible against the blackness of the night now, and the light from the flashlight looked like an impossibly faraway star. "Come back!"

"Come back!" Jack called out in a barely louder voice. It was no use. Their screams weren't even loud enough to be heard from fifteen meters away. "Come back!"

"Come back! Come back!" Rose kept on shouting, desperate for the boat to turn around. "Come back!"

"Hello!" Jack and Rose heard Fifth-Officer Lowe shout out as he and the other men in the boat continued searching for survivors. "Can anyone hear me?"

"Come back!" Jack screamed hoarsely. "We hear you! Come back!" The lifeboat continued to sail away. Rose dejectedly looked around for something to attract the attention of the men in the boat. Then she spied the whistle frozen in the mouth of the dead Chief Officer Wilde. She cleared her throat to get Jack's attention.

"Jack… the whistle!" she pointed at the dead officer. Jack nodded. They had to get that whistle. They both started to slide off the door, but a sudden tugging on their hands made them look back down at Clara. Their hands had frozen together over the wait. Jack and Rose sadly looked at each for a moment. They would have to let her go if they were to get to the whistle. With heartfelt sobs, they both painfully yanked their hands out of her grasp, breaking apart the thin trail of ice that had gathered in between their palms. Jack then saw her nutcracker. It was a miracle she still had it. Over the course of everything they had been through during the sinking, she still had it with her. He wasn't sure if Clara would want him to do this or not, but without a second thought, he tried to pry her hand away from the toy. Seeing him struggle to free it from the ice surrounding Clara's hand, Rose helped. Together, they successfully got it out of Clara's grip. They would treasure her nutcracker and the memory of Clara forever. They would never ever forget this little girl. Jack and Rose glanced at each other. It was time to say goodbye. They each grasped her hands tightly one last time as tears gathered in their eyes.

"We'll never let go…" Jack whispered, gently stroking Clara's wet hair.

"We'll finish your song…" Rose whispered, kissing her forehead lovingly.

"We promise…" they each kissed her knuckles one last time, and then they let her go. Clara slowly sunk beneath the dark, murky waves, peacefully dreaming on as she faded down into the deep abyss of the ocean to join the _Titanic._ They continued to cry as they watched her fade away until her body was no longer visible from the darkness of the water.

Jack and Rose just stayed there for a moment, but then they remembered the whistle and the boat. They grabbed each other's hands tightly before slowly sliding off the door. They both shouted hoarsely and shut their eyes tightly when they felt the icy water penetrate their pores once again. They both were so exhausted; they could barely move their heavy limbs, but they forced themselves to swim toward the body of Chief Officer Wilde. When they reached him, they both grabbed onto the deck chair he had been staying afloat on. Jack ripped the whistle out of his mouth, and brought it to his lips. He blew it with every ounce of air he had for several moments before Rose snatched it away and started to blow upon it as well, not wanting him to run out of breath. They both watched the men in the boat whip around at the sound of them blowing the whistle.

"Turn around!" they heard Lowe scream at the men in the boat as Jack took the whistle back from Rose and started to blow on it again. They continued to take turns blowing on it until the boat was right next to them, and the men were hauling them both in, covering them up with warm blankets.

* * *

><p>Jack and Rose held each other's hands tightly as they slowly opened their eyes, returning from that tragic night to the present day. The sound of the whistle seemed to echo throughout the very room. Their eyes were shining slightly, but unlike their listeners, they weren't crying. They were both silent as they took in the expressions of those in front of them.<p>

Lizzie wasn't even bothering to hold back her sobs. She could hardly believe that such a tragic thing had happened to her grandparents. She had even told Brock herself that they had never even mentioned that they had both been on _Titanic_ before, and now she knew why. Not only did they not wish to relive seeing her Great Aunt die in front of them, they had also wanted to spare her the horror and sorrow of everything that had happened during the final hours that the doomed luxury liner had been afloat.

Lewis Bodine had tears streaming down his cheeks. He felt incredibly guilty. He had been so rude and cocky when he had learned that the people in front of him had claimed to be on the _Titanic_, and had even accused them of being publicity seekers. He had even gone so far as to be a smartass to them by showing Jack and Rose that stupid computer graphic of the ship going down. How he wished he could find a way to apologize for how rude he had been to them and skeptical of their story.

Bobby Buell was shaking with grief as his tears rolled down his face. From the beginning, all he had cared about was how much money they were spending per day. He had backed Brock into a corner, forcing him to get the old folks in front of him to hurry up with this tragic tale. How he had wanted to know this story was beyond him, now. He had forced these people to hurry up with telling a story that still hurt them deeply.

Brock Lovett could only stare sadly at Jack and Rose as he cried silently. Yes, he had thought about the tragedy of the _Titanic_ in the past, and had imagined what it must have been like for the survivors, but Jack and Rose's tale of the reality of what had happened here on that terrible night eighty-four years ago had hit him like never before. He had been too blinded by his greed for fame to stop and really think deeply about it. He was no different than a goddamn grave robber. He had disturbed the resting place of over a thousand innocent souls that had perished here, and all because of his desperation to find a stupid diamond necklace. A necklace, he now realized, that was truly worthless to the couple in front of him whereas compared to the little nutcracker in Jack's hands that they had as a token to remember sweet little Clara.

"Fifteen hundred people went into the sea," Rose said calmly, bringing everyone out of their thoughts, "when _Titanic_ sank from under us." She stopped there, letting everyone take in the vast number of lives that had gone down with the Ship of Dreams.

"There were twenty boats floating nearby," Jack said solemnly, willing to let none of his emotions be heard in his voice as he spoke. "And only one came back. One."

"Seven were saved from the water. Ourselves included." Rose said with a trembling voice.

"Seven," Jack emphasized, his voice wavering with grief slightly at the memory of the unfortunate souls that they had both seen freeze to death. "Out of fifteen hundred…" They were both silent for a moment to collect their emotions. When they were both calm again, Jack and Rose looked back up at their semicircle of listeners.

"Afterward," Rose continued, "the seven hundred people in the boats, had nothing to do but wait…"

"Wait to die… Wait to live…" Jack murmured softly, looking down at Clara's nutcracker with tearful eyes.

"Wait for an absolution," Rose said. "That would never come…"

* * *

><p>Dawn stretched across the horizon; the soft glows of the sun slowly lighted the North Atlantic to reveal twenty lifeboats floating along upon it. Some were overturned, and had desperate survivors sitting on top of it to stay out of the frigid water as they bobbed along the surface of the ocean. Others were right side up, and had as few as ten or so people in them, to as many seventy all cramped together. It had been an hour and a half since <em>Titanic<em> had sunk beneath the waves, but not a single one of the seven hundred survivors in the twenty lifeboats had slept a wink.

In Collapsible C, Bruce Ismay just stared blankly in front of him. He didn't know what to think. His ship beloved ship was now at the bottom of the ocean, and he was going to be the one people blamed for sure. He had been the one that had convinced Captain Smith to give the order to speed up, and because of it, they weren't able to turn in time to avoid that iceberg. He could never expect forgiveness for the poor families that had lost their loved ones…

In Collapsible A, Caledon Hockley was trembling as he rocked the little girl on his lap, overcome by grief and repulsion for his previous actions. How could he have done that? How could he have become so angry, that he had lost his common sense and tried to kill poor Clara? He was disgusted with himself. She, Rose, and that gutter- _Jack,_ probably hadn't even survived because of his reckless deed. If by some chance the three of them had survived, he would find them, and apologize, hopeful that they would forgive him, despite being highly unlikely. He would even break off his engagement Rose. Compared to how he had acted towards her even before she met Jack and Clara, her actions were no different than how a saint would react. The man in front of him suddenly offered him a flask. He kindly accepted. Alcohol was probably the only thing in the world that could calm him down, right now.

In Lifeboat Six, Molly and Ruth were huddled together to stay warm. Neither of them had said a single word, but there was no need to. The fact that they had someone in this boat that they knew was a great comfort. New money and old money no longer made any difference. The fact that they were both alive right now was all that mattered.

In Lifeboat Fourteen, Jack and Rose laid together at the bottom the boat, swaddled in blankets. They were both as white as the fading moon above. They were both exhausted, but neither of them dared to try and sleep. The memory of sweet little Clara lying dead on that door was the only thing either of them could think about. She had been only an innocent little girl, with dreams bigger than the ocean itself, but now she would never fulfill those dreams. She would never see her hometown of Chippewa Fall's again, or go back to the pier in Santa Monica, or become a renowned composer. All that was left of her was her beloved nutcracker. She was gone, and would never come back.

A sudden light next to them made Jack and Rose come back from their thoughts and turn their heads slightly. Fifth-Officer Lowe had lit one of the emergency flares, and was waving it madly over his head, obviously trying to get the attention of someone faraway.

"We're saved!" he shouted happily, still waving the flare. "Praise be to God! We're saved!" The others in the boat looked in the direction he was looking, and started to cheer in joy and relief. Jack and Rose slowly sat up and glanced in the direction everyone was looking, wondering what was going on. Then they saw it. In the distance was a great ship, looming larger with every passing second as it came toward the scattered lifeboats. It was much smaller than the _Titanic,_ and only had one steam funnel, but it was still a ship, and it had come to rescue them all. Jack and Rose just stared silently at the ship, not joining in the cheers of the fellow survivors in their boat as the crewmen rowed toward it, eager to get on board.

Jack and Rose didn't say a single word when their lifeboat finally rowed up to the ship. They were the first of the lifeboats to reach it. They both just stared emotionlessly up at the black bow of the ship, reading the name of their savior that was stamped across it: _Carpathia._ They watched as the crewmen on the _Carpathia_ yelled out orders as they threw down a rope ladder from the gangway doors so the survivors could all climb aboard. The rope ladder wasn't very long, so it wouldn't be too long or hard to climb it. Nonetheless, Rose, who was the first to board the _Carpathia,_ still needed help to climb it, as she was still very weak from the time spent in the water. Jack went after her. Being sleep-drunken and overcome by grief from the death of Clara, he was very shaky on his legs as he grabbed hold of the ladder and started to slowly, but surely climb it, doing his best to hold on to Clara's toy as he did. With the help of the crewmen behind him, he was able to make it all the way to the top, and was helped over the side of the ship, and onto the safety of deck by two of the _Carpathia's _crewmen.

As he stepped away from the ladder, he saw Rose behind one of the crewmen, obviously waiting for him, and his face lit up when he saw her. In his rush to be near her again, he nearly tripped, and stumbled on Rose. She only supported him, and with the assistance of a nearby volunteer, helped him to stand back up. Once he was upright again, two kind crewmen wrapped warm blankets around both of them, replacing the old ones they had left in the lifeboat. Jack and Rose didn't say a word as they did this. They were still in shock, and they could only acknowledge each other. The crewmen weren't offended at all as they walked away from them. They couldn't even imagine the terror they had both been through. Jack and Rose silently made their way through the crowd of people on the deck that were trying to catch a glimpse of the _Titanic_ survivors. Their curious expressions swiftly changed to those absolute horror when they saw the state of Jack and Rose, and they all automatically stepped back, clearing a path for them as they walked by.

As they passed through the crowd of onlookers to find someplace on deck they would be able to sit down at, two more crewmen approached them. The first wrapped them both up in yet another warm blanket to keep them warm, as the other offered them both large, hot cups of tea. Jack and Rose just kept staring ahead blankly, not seeing the drinks they were presented. The crewman that had wrapped the blanket around them quickly realized this, and took one cup the second crewman had offered them. With gentle hands, he took the hand near him that Rose was using to keep the blankets wrapped tightly around her, and placed the cup of tea in it before doing the same with Jack.

They went straight down to the third-class section, and quickly found an empty wooden bench facing the ocean. They settled there. As they sipped their tea, the shock slowly started to wear off them and they watched more survivors make their way down to the lower levels they were at. Like them, there were many who were simply staring blankly ahead, not even acknowledging anyone, and others just wept bitterly, not caring what other people thought. Just watching all of these sad people made Rose want to cry, but she held back her tears. Now wasn't the time to cry. She had to stay strong for Jack. If anything, he should be the one crying right now. He had just lost his little sister, and when the protective wall he had built around himself right now to block out the terrible truth finally came tumbling down, she would have to be there to comfort him.

She tenderly laid her head on his shoulder. Jack didn't look at her as he wrapped his arm around her waist. His eyes were still taking in the survivors around them. By now, there was a quite a fair amount of people on deck. Most of them were women and children, and including him, there was but a handful of men. Everyone was reacting differently. Some people were standing; others were lying down or sitting on the benches. Some were with what was left of their families, and others were completely alone without anyone left in the world. Some people were mourning as they cried hysterically, and others were very quiet as they stared solemnly at nothing at all.

He paused suddenly when he saw a little girl and her mother huddled together on a blanket near them. The woman was singing softly to the little girl as she stroked her blonde hair, hugging her tightly as the girl buried her face into her chest and cried. His heart broke when he saw her, and he looked down at Clara's nutcracker in his hand, holding it tightly. That girl looked so much like Clara. What would she be doing right now if she had survived, too? Would she be crying like that other girl was, or just stare blankly at nothing at all like him and Rose? Without meaning for it to happen, a lonely tear slid down his cheek, and landed on the beard of the nutcracker. He turned his head a little, not wanting Rose to see as he wiped it away on the blanket covering his shoulder, but she did. Rose knew he needed to cry. He needed to mourn for her. She set down her finished cup of tea and tenderly wrapped both her arms around Jack; silently telling him it was okay for him to cry.

That was all it took. With a choked sob, Jack started to cry hysterically. His entire heart was throbbing, and everything was completely surreal. Less than a week ago, he had been in Europe with sweet little Clara, the only family he had left. They had always been together, through the good times, and the bad. The two of them had been working to go back home to America, and fulfill their lifelong dreams. He had had so much planned once they docked in New York. With the little bit of money they had made back in Europe, he would exchange it for American cash and buy train tickets out to Santa Monica. He was going to get a steady job, and actually settle down from now on so that she could go to school. She was going to get a decent education so she could go on and go to college, and then one day become the composer she had always dreamed of becoming, but now, none of that would happen. That so-called lucky hand of poker had changed everything. _Titanic _had killed his sister, Clara Dawson. Why did God have to make him endure so many tragedies? He had already experienced these emotions five years ago when their folks died, and he had been given the responsibility of practically raising Clara. Why oh why was he being forced to relive them all over again?

As Rose continued to hold him against her, anger started to flow through him. He wanted to blame someone, anyone, for her death, but there was no one to blame. The sinking had been nothing more than a tragic accident, and as much as he wanted to pinpoint the entire disaster on someone in particular, it was impossible. If he wanted to hate anything, he ought to hate _Titanic_ itself, but that was something he absolutely could not do. He could never hate the ship itself, because on it, he had met Rose, his soul mate. Rose… what was he thinking? He may have lost Clara, but he still had her. He would have probably already killed himself if he didn't have Rose right here with him right now, silently telling him that everything would be okay. He wasn't going to be completely alone. She was going to be there with him from now on, pulling him out of his misery and darkness in times like these.

His sobs gradually subsided. He rubbed one of his eyes with the palm of his free hand before turning to look at her. He was surprised to see she was crying, too. He felt like an idiot. He was mourning over the loss of his only sister, not even noticing that as she comforted him, Rose had been crying for her as well. How could he have been so stupid? Rose had said before that she had thought of Clara as the sister she never got to have. She had loved her, too. Here he was thinking that he was the only one suffering right now, while Rose had been trying to hide the pain she felt from the loss of Clara away from his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he whispered hoarsely. "I'm a wreck. I can't even call myself a man."

"What are you talking about?" Rose asked, blinking away her own tears to look him in the eye.

"I just cried like a baby, and didn't even realize you were crying, too. I shouldn't have been so weak. I should have been the one comforting you, just now…"

"Don't say that!" Rose said in a surprisingly sharp tone that caught Jack off guard. "Don't even dare to think that! It's perfectly natural that you cried just now. You miss Clara. She was your sister, and yes, I miss her, too, but you need to cry for her more than I do, right now. I need to be here to comfort you. You comforting me over everything that has happened can happen later. Right now, you need properly mourn for Clara, the sister you just lost…"

Hearing her words, Jack hugged Rose tightly. He was one lucky bastard to have found Rose, someone who cared so much about him, and he couldn't help but love her even more for that. Rose simply hugged him back. When he finally broke away, he stared down at Clara's nutcracker that he had set down on his lap. He held it up as fresh tears started pooling down his face again.

"Rose," he said in a hoarse voice. "Did Clara ever explain why she carried this thing with her everywhere?" Rose shook her head. She wasn't quite sure where he was leading with this, but she could tell that whatever he said next would be painful for him to tell her. "Well, it was because it reminded her what made her want to start writing music in the first place. You see, one of the last things that she could remember the two of us doing with our parents before they died was going to see the ballet, _The Nutcracker,_ at Christmastime." He paused when he saw her eyes widen in recognition at the name of the famous ballet, and then glanced back down at the toy nutcracker. "She was enchanted by the story itself, especially since she happened to share the name of the fictional little girl in the production, but what she truly fell in love with was the music she heard that night. To this day, I can remember the look on her face when we left the theatre as she hummed the melodies from the show. Mom and Dad had originally thought she had fallen in love with the show, so as we were leaving, they ended up buying this toy nutcracker from the souvenir stand out in the lobby after the production ended. I'll never forget what she said when she held it for the first time:

"_Someday when I'm older, I'm going to write enchanting music just like the music I just heard!"_

Rose's lower lip trembled. The thought of what had motivated Clara in wanting to become a composer was so sweet, but now she would never get to follow that dream of hers. She was about to lean her head on his shoulder, when she saw something that made her abruptly break away from his embrace and turn around to face away from him as she adjusted her blanket so none of her hair was showing. Jack was puzzled by her behavior.

"Rose, wha-" She cut him off by shushing him, placing a finger to her lips. She discreetly nodded in the direction of the stairs that separated the third-class decks from the first-class. He gazed curiously toward them before swiftly turning back around, adjusting the blanket he had on around his shoulders to cover up his head and hide Clara's nutcracker beneath his blankets when he spotted what Rose had seen.

Cal, looking awfully out of place and quite a mess, was strolling down the stairs that divided the decks, searching desperately for Rose. He had to find her, and if she, Jack, and Clara _had _survived, she was certain to be down here with them in third-class. There was no about that. A lone steward saw the scruffy tuxedo he had been wearing from the wreck, and approached him.

"Sir, I don't think you'll find any of your people down here. It's only steerage." Cal just shrugged him away. He would believe what the man had said when he saw it himself. He walked through the clusters of people, glancing in every direction as he searched for Rose. A flash of red in the corner of his eye made him turn. There was a woman whose back was facing him, and she had long, somewhat curly hair, just like Rose's. She was standing by herself. If that was Rose, it meant that the Jack and Clara hadn't survived, and there was a chance she would take him back. He ran right up to the woman, desperate to see if it was indeed her.

"Rose!" he cried hopefully, running around to face the woman in front. The woman jumped, nearly dropping the cup of tea she was sipping. Seeing that it wasn't Rose, Cal nodded apologetically to her before continuing on, and hopelessness spread across his face once again.

Jack and Rose watched Cal continue to trudge across the deck from the corner of their eyes. They had to stay very quiet, and not attract his attention. Only by making him think that neither of them had survived the sinking could they ensure that Caledon Hockley would never bother them again.

They continued to watch him until he right near them, looking about everywhere. They both casually turned their heads away as he glanced in their direction, completely missing them. Jack and Rose held each other's hands tightly, both of them praying he wouldn't come any closer. Their prayers were answered. After another moment or so, Cal finally shook his head and sighed. They watched with relief and joy as he turned back around, and went back up the stairs to his area of the ship.

* * *

><p>"That's the last time either of us ever saw him," Rose said to the others. "He married, of course, and inherited his millions."<p>

"But the crash of '29 hit his interest hard," Jack explained. "And he put a pistol in his mouth that year."

"His children fought over the scraps of his estate like hyenas," Rose said, "or so we read…"

* * *

><p>Jack and Rose stood hand in hand on the deck of the <em>Carpathia, <em>watching silently as the ship sailed past the silhouette of the Statue of Liberty. It had been three days since _Titanic _had gone down, and they would be docking any minute. They didn't even care they were being soaked to the bone in the drizzling rain. After all they'd been through, a little rain was nothing.

They were back home. They were really doing this. They were about to start their new life together. Yes, it was going to be without Clara, but they had to move on. They had promised her that they would live, and that was what they were going to do. Even if she wasn't with them in person anymore, she would forever live on in their hearts, and so long as they had her nutcracker, she would always be with them. An officer saw them standing there at the railing and approached them.

"Can I take your names, please?" he asked politely. Jack opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything, Rose was answering the officer.

"Dawson," she stated confidently and without hesitation. "Jack and Rose Dawson."

"Thank you," he said before carrying on. Once he was out of sight, Jack stared at her in shock.

"Did you really mean that?" he whispered. She nodded, smiling kindly up at him.

"Of course, Jack. I said back on _Titanic_ that I was getting off the ship with you when the ship docks. This may be a different ship, but I'm still getting off with you, so it's the same to me."

"This is crazy," he said, grinning at her wet form as he wrapped his arms around her. "I guess I still find it hard to believe that you're choosing me over the life of luxury in first-class." At this, Rose turned to look back at the Statue of Liberty, which to her was symbolizing her eternal freedom from the confines of first-class.

"Can you exchange one life for another?" She asked, speaking more to herself than to him. "A caterpillar turns into a butterfly after leaving its cocoon." She turned to face him again, smiling happily. "If a mindless insect can do it, why can't I? Is it anymore unimaginable than the sinking of the _Titanic?"_

Hearing her words, Jack felt tears stream down his face, and he pulled her into a passionate, loving kiss that expressed all the love he felt for her.

* * *

><p>"And that's the end," Rose said, holding Jack's hand tenderly as they stared into the faces of Brock and the others. "After that, we took compensation that the White Star Line had offered the survivors and boarded the first train out of New York to California."<p>

"We had wanted to move to Santa Monica originally, but the apartments there were too expensive at the time," Jack explained. "So we instead found a place in Los Angeles, and by the time World War One had actually started off in Europe, the prices in the area had gone done considerably, and we were able to move, along with our now three year-old daughter, who happened to be conceived from our time in that Renault on the ship. We had our next child, our son Michael, just before America posted the draft requiring me to go and fight in the war, and when I came back, we had our next daughter, whom we decided to name Grace, before finally settling down into an average, middle-class lifestyle."

"…The only thing we ever found on Clara is that photograph," Bodine said after a few moments of tense silence, as no one was even sure what to say now. "Aside from that, there's no record of her at all."

"No, there wouldn't be, would there?" Jack said sadly, glancing over at the picture, the drawing of Rose, and the sheets of music. As he and Rose had told their story, the museum experts had finally found a way to preserve them, and had even been kind enough to put all of them into nice picture frames. Rose gestured for someone to give her the photograph, and Lizzie promptly handed it to her. She and Jack stared at it sadly for several moments, looking at Clara's happy face as she held her nutcracker and the Heart of the Ocean. When they both eventually looked back up, they were smiling.

"We've never spoken of her to anyone else until now," Rose stated, shocking everyone in the room. "Not even to your mother, Lizzie."

"You never told her who her namesake was?" Lizzie asked, not believing her ears. Jack and Rose smiled as they shook their heads. There had been a time they had debated on whether telling their first daughter, whom they had named Clair, about her late aunt, but they had decided against it.

"People's hearts are deep oceans of secrets, Lizzie," Jack replied as Rose held up the picture frame so everyone could see Clara in the photograph.

"Well, now you know who the little girl in this picture is: Clara Dawson," she said. "And that she sacrificed herself in order to save us…"

"In every way that she could sacrifice her life to save ours…" Jack added, swapping the nutcracker for the picture so he could get a good look at his younger sister once more. "For eighty-four years now, I had hoped that I would somehow see this picture again, because this is the only photograph of her in existence…"

"She exists now, only in our memories…" Rose said, leaning her ancient face against his shoulder to keep staring at the picture.

* * *

><p>Lizzie felt conflicted. It had been over two hours since her grandparents had finished their tale of their time on the <em>Titanic,<em> and had afterwards decided to go to bed. How they could sleep right now after not only reliving that tragic memory of the girl who had been her Great Aunt dying in the ocean, but also because of all the festivities going on, astounded her. After realizing that Jack and Rose had no idea what had happened to the Heart of the Ocean once Cal had taken it from Clara that last time they were both in the Millionaire Suite, Brock had personally called the sponsors of the expedition to tell them that the _Keldysh_ would start sailing home first thing tomorrow. Then he told the rest of the crew. They had been ecstatic, and had promptly brought out the stashes of alcohol they had been saving for when they had finally found the diamond to celebrate and brought down their portable radios from their cabins. Sure, they might not have found the Blue Diamond of the Crown, but they were finally going to get off this ship. They were going to be on dry land again, and see their families for the first time in over three years, and to them, that was something worth celebrating.

Lizzie wasn't sure what she should be doing. She had originally planned to go back to the cabin with her grandparents and go to sleep, but they had both politely told her to go and enjoy the party, telling her they needed some time alone right now. She had nodded, and did what they said. It was natural they needed some time apart at the moment. She had then tried to find Brock in the crowd on the deck, joining in the festivities, but he was nowhere in sight. She could see Bodine and Buell off in the corner, drinking down shot glasses with some of the submersible operators.

"We're getting off this God forsaken stretch of ocean!" She heard Lewis shout joyfully before draining his glass. "We're going home!" Bobby and the other men cheered before gulping down their glasses as well. Lizzie ignored them, having spotted Brock by himself on the deck below, standing by the railing, far apart from the rest of the celebration. He glanced up as she walked down the flight of iron stairs and went over to him.

"Hey," he said weakly. She grinned and nodded over her shoulder at the rest of the crew.

"Come to the party," she said. "If I get drunk enough, I've been known to dance…" He chuckled slightly, but shook his head while he glanced down at his hand.

"You know, I was saving this for when I found the diamond," he said, holding up an unwrapped cigar so she could see it. Before she could say anything, he promptly threw it overboard. They watched as it floated away on the dark waves.

"I'm sorry…" Lizzie said hesitantly. What else could she say? Sure, the man in front of her had tried to originally force her to help him get her grandparents to tell him of their time on board _Titanic, _but that seemed like a lifetime ago. Now, the man she saw was no different than someone who had lost everything they had ever worked for.

"For three years," Brock said softly, "I've thought of nothing except _Titanic…_ But I never got it… I never let it in…"

Lizzie just smiled comfortingly.

* * *

><p>Jack and Rose made sure that Lizzie was long gone before slipping out of their cabin. Jack carried Clara's nutcracker as Rose walked behind him with her hands cupped over her heart. They had to be quick. Lizzie could come back to check on them at any moment.<p>

They silently went down to the stern of the ship. They were both dressed in their nightclothes, and were walking barefoot. They smiled to each other when they finally reached the stern railing. They were finally about to do it. They finally were going to do what they had even come out here to do. With a nod, they wrapped their bony fingers on the railing, began to hoist themselves up so they could lean over the edge.

* * *

><p>From the deck above, Lizzie had turned her head away from Brock slightly, and saw her grandparents. Her eyes went wide with fear.<p>

"Oh my God!"

She started to run. Brock whipped around, confused, but then he saw what she had seen.

"Jesus!" he breathed, dashing after her. Neither of them knew what Jack and Rose could possibly be thinking. Sure, they had never obviously gotten over the death of sweet little Clara, but were they really going to kill themselves so they could join her? Had remembering their painful memories of their time on _Titanic_ messed with their delicately old heads?

* * *

><p>Jack and Rose just stood there for several moments, looking down at the waters below. It looked exactly as it had eighty-four years ago when they had last been here: dark and unforgiving, lying in wait to swallow them up. With a sigh, they both turned their heads to look at one another, and they nodded silently. This was it. It was now never. Rose reluctantly looked at Clara's nutcracker that Jack was still holding, and let one of her hands slip away from the railing-<p>

"Grandma! Grandpa!" came a scream behind them. Startled, Jack and Rose abruptly turned around to see Lizzie and Brock running down the stairs toward them, obviously thinking that they were trying to jump overboard. "Wait, please don't-"

"Don't come any closer!" Jack ordered as he and Rose stepped down from the railing. They weren't planning to listen, but what Rose had in her hand made them both freeze in shock.

"We'll drop them!" Rose warned, swinging the Heart of the Ocean in a pendulum manner as Jack stepped closer to her so she could put the diamond around the head of the nutcracker. Once it was over it, they both held the toy from its legs as they backed away to stand at the ledge, and they warningly held it out over the water, silently telling them that they would do as they said if they took another step toward them.

Brock could only stare at them with his jaw dropped. His eyes were bulging from seeing his holy grail not only in front of him, but also from the fact that it was dangling on the chest of the nutcracker that the girl on the _Titanic_ had treasured was over the edge of the ship.

"You two had it this entire time?" he whispered. Jack and Rose just nodded, and they couldn't help but laugh as they recalled how they had found it.

* * *

><p>Jack and Rose broke away from the kiss after a few moments, and just stared at each other lovingly. Jack was putting his hands on her waist, when he felt something strange protruding from the pocket of the black overcoat Rose was still wearing. Something hard and round with jagged edges.<p>

"Rose, what do you have in your pocket?" he asked. Rose gave him a puzzled look.

"My pocket?" she questioned, reaching into it. She immediately found the strange object Jack had felt, and quickly pulled it out. Their eyes went wide when they both saw what it was, and they could only stare at each other in shock. It was none other than the blue stone meant for royalty that Clara had been so enchanted with: the Heart of the Ocean.

* * *

><p>"The hardest part about being so poor, was being so rich," Rose stated. "But every time we thought about selling it, we thought of Cal, and somehow we made it without his help."<p>

"And besides," Jack said as Bobby and Lewis ran down from the party on the decks above, having heard Lizzie's scream. "Clara had always loved this necklace. She saw it as a real treasure, and she would have never have forgiven us if we didn't treat it as such, too." Lewis and Bobby's eyeballs popped out of their heads when they were finally close enough to see what was hanging from the neck of the nutcracker that he and Rose still held warningly over the edge of the ship.

"Holy shit…" Lewis mumbled.

"Look, Jack, Rose," Brock said desperately as he took a few cautious steps toward them, "I don't know what to say to a woman who tries to jump off the _Titanic_ when it's not sinking, or to a man who happens to be related to a little girl who jumps back on it when it is…" They couldn't help but snicker slightly from his phrase of words. "We're not dealing with logic here," he continued. "And I know that… but please… both of you… think about this for a second…"

"Oh, we've been thinking about this for years!" Rose proudly exclaimed. "We've been planning it, even!"

"And we've come all the way here to put it back where it belongs," Jack said. "To return it, and this nutcracker, back to their only rightful owner, Clara Dawson!" They both began to turn back around.

"Wait!" Brock cried, stretching out his hand slightly as he took a few more steps toward them. "Just… just let me hold it in my hand… Please… Just once…" Jack and Rose stared at each other momentarily. The way he looked right now was very déjà vu compared to how the two of them had first met. Ever so slowly, they both brought Clara's nutcracker back over the railing, and slowly lowered it toward Brock until the diamond itself was resting in the palm of his hand.

For a few long, agonizingly slow moments, Brock just stared mesmerized at the Heart of the Ocean, the trophy of his three-year quest. It was just as he had always envisioned it to look like. Infinite sapphire blue depths that shamed the ocean itself, and it fit perfectly in his hand, just how he had always thought it would.

"My God…" he whispered to himself in amazement.

"You looked for treasure in the wrong place, Mr. Lovett," said Rose in a wise voice. He hesitantly tore his eyes away from the diamond to meet their eyes.

"Only life is priceless…" Jack said with a smile. "And, in the words of my sister, making each-"

"And every day-" Rose added.

"Count." They finished together. They slowly moved the nutcracker away, and the diamond began to slip out of his hand. Without looking away, Brock tightened his grip on it, not wanting to ever let it go. Jack and Rose looked pleadingly at him. He could see how much this meant to them, and with slow reluctance, he allowed his fingers to uncurl around the stone. He watched in slow motion as it slid out of his hand. Then, without warning, Jack and Rose grinned happily as they threw Clara's nutcracker and the diamond over their shoulders, and into the sea.

"Jesus, no!" Lewis nearly screamed as he rushed to the railing as Bobby let out a strangled cry while falling to his knees, his hands tearing through his hair. Bodine got there just in time to see the nutcracker hit the water, and start to sink down beneath the waves from the weight of the diamond, both of them disappearing forever.

"That really sucks, Goddammit!" he screamed at Jack and Rose, but they paid him no mind. They were still watching the Heart of the Ocean drag Clara's beloved toy deeper and deeper into the heart of the ocean itself. Then they turned around to look at Brock.

He was frozen in shock, his hand still out stretched toward them. It was evident that he was at a loss as what his reaction should even be. When his eyes met theirs, he could see the wisdom shining through them, and it brought an ever so slight smile to his face. Jack and Rose smiled back. Then Brock started to laugh. Lewis, Bobby, and Lizzie stared at him, but he didn't stop. How could he not laugh? When he stopped and thought about it, it was actually very amusing. He had just wasted three years of his life. He had thrown away his family, all over a hunk of crystallized carbon. Jack and Rose were absolutely right. Compared to how he had tossed what ought to have been the most precious jewel's in his life away, them throwing the diamond overboard was funny. Lewis didn't seem to share his thoughts.

"Very funny! That's just great!" he shouted, storming angrily back to the decks above. "Meanwhile, I'm gonna call my wife and tell her, 'Hey, we found the diamond, but threw back into the ocean!'" Lizzie snickered at his comment as Brock turned to look at her.

"Would you like to dance?" he asked her. She nodded, laughing as he escorted her back up to the party. Jack and Rose just smiled to one another before heading back to their cabin. There was still one more thing they had to do.

Once they were inside, they went straight to the dresser that displayed all of their pictures. They were their memoirs of the life they had shared together, and each one of them proved that they had kept the first half of their promise to Clara. Jack and Rose smiled as they looked at them.

There was a picture of Rose in a theatrically lit studio from her days as a silent picture actress, and one of Jack in a suit at his first concert, playing the piano for the first song he had composed after Clara had died. He had titled it, _A Life So Changed,_ and had dedicated it to every soul that had gone down with the _Titanic_. It had even won a few awards. There was a picture of them from their wedding, and pictures of their times they had been on vacation, such as the two of them in Wisconsin at Lake Wisota with their fishing poles, holding up their catches, to one where the two of them were standing next to a flying machine of their own, with white scarves wrapped around their necks. There were even photographs and sketches Jack had made of their children and grandchildren growing up. From the day they were born, to the day they had children of their own. They smiled as they looked at all of them. Then they picked up the photograph of them on the _Titanic _with Clara, as well as one other, before heading over to the piano they had brought with them. Until this lost picture of Clara had been found, this other picture had always been their favorite. It had been taken during their honeymoon. They were sitting together on horses right in the surf of the Santa Monica beach, with the rollercoaster on the pier in the background. They each had large cones of chocolate ice cream in their hands that they were licking as they grinned back at the camera.

They gently set both photos on top of the piano. They were both silent for some time as they looked at the two photographs.

"Are you ready to hear it, sis?" Jack said finally as he and Rose sat down on the bench of the piano, both of them staring at the photographed image of her. "Are you ready to hear your finally finished song?" The silence of the night answered him.

"I think she said yes," Rose said with a smile. Jack chuckled before glancing back at the picture.

"I hope it's everything you ever dreamed of, Clara," he whispered. Then they both looked down at the finished song that was in the stand. It had taken them nearly a year after _Titanic_ had gone down to allow themselves to reopen the still fresh wound they still had from her death in order to try and attempt to learn how to learn to play the piano and write down the notes, and another three years after that to correctly be able to write down the notes that Clara had written down for both the vocals and the piano itself when she was still alive. Over the next two decades, they had spent all their time working on it, adding on to where the original author had left off. By the time the Great Depression had been ending in America and World War II was starting, they had finally finished the song. Sure, they had known that Clara could hear it whenever she wanted now that she was up in heaven, but somehow, Jack and Rose always felt that she would have wanted them to play it for her here, where she had died. And that was what they had come here to do.

With a smile, Jack began to play the piano to her song as Rose began to sing the lyrics, which, in her memory, they had decided to call _My Heart Will Go On._

It was truly beautiful. Yes, the underscore from the piano represented the love that they had shared while on board the _Titanic_ that had inspired Clara to start writing this in the first place, but the words were in her honor. They could easily be mistaken for someone pining over their lover, but they had been written to remember the spirit of a truly wonderful little girl. The reason the two of them had even lived through the shipwreck at all was because of Clara, and the power of a song.

When they were done, they smiled, and looked up at the picture of Clara. She was still smiling brightly in the photograph, but for some reason, she seemed to be smiling brighter than ever, now.

"I knew you would like it…" Jack said tiredly. He and Rose felt exhausted.

"Should we go to bed now, Jack?" Rose whispered. He nodded, and they climbed into bed. They both shut their eyes at once, and were very still in each other's arms. Neither of them saw from the window of their cabin, two shooting stars suddenly streak across the sky.

* * *

><p>Jack and Rose were in the ocean, and approaching the ghost ship of <em>Titanic<em>. Were they perhaps dreaming of being in one of the submersibles? They stared at each other and grabbed each other's hands before glancing back at the wreckage of the ship, lighted by mysterious moonlight. Moonlight that shouldn't have been able to reach the bottom of the ocean. As they passed over the ruined decks and into the interior of the ship, a strange force behind them seemed to propel them both forward. It was almost like they were flying, now. Then the refrain to Clara's song sounded from the strings of a violin, deep within the ship. At first, Jack and Rose thought they had imagined hearing the music, but it steadily grew louder. The next thing they knew, the rusticles hanging from the windows and ceiling in the wreckage around them vanished. The mutated moss and seaweed on the corridor walls was fading away as well. The ship was slowly transforming back to its original breathtaking glory as the violin continued to play. Jack and Rose were completely enchanted. Neither of them had ever experienced a dream quite as real and magical as this one was.

Their flying finally slowed down as they turned the corner. A porter smartly dressed in his uniform was standing beside the ornate entrance to the first-class Grand Staircase. Before either of them could say a word, he opened the door, and ushered for them to go in. Jack and Rose went in, only to gasp.

Underneath the restored glass dome above, were the souls of the people that had gone down with the luxury liner. Men decked in black ties and tailcoats, and women fashioned in beautiful multi-colored gowns and sparkling jewels filled the exquisite foyer, and among them were their long lost friends. Trudy smiled brightly to Rose as she and Jack passed, curtsying politely to her mistress as the members of the orchestra that were across from her bowed kindly to them while Wallace Hartley kept playing the violin. Captain Smith nodded, as did Officer Murdoch. Cora and her parents waved happily to them. John Jacob Astor and Benjamin Guggenheim were near Tommy, who took off his fedora hat as they approached, and smiled his toothy Irish grin. Across from him were Fabrizio and Helga, who smiled kindly at them. At the foot of the stairs was Mr. Andrews, motioning for them to go up the steps. It wasn't until they saw the figure of who was at the top of the stairs, staring at the marvelous clock, did Jack and Rose realize why they were all here. They had come to welcome them both back.

At the top of the stairs, a little girl with blonde hair that was dressed in a dark green dress, had her back to them, and was staring intently at the intricate angels guarding Time on either side of the clock. As they began going up the marble staircase, the little girl turned around to face them, and Jack and Rose both felt tears start to gather in their eyes when they saw that it was Clara. She looked exactly as how they remembered her. Her bright blue eyes were sparkling with joy at the sight of seeing them for the first time in over eighty-four years, and her smile was the biggest either of them could ever remember seeing it. She had her nutcracker once again, and was holding it against her chest with one arm, and around her tiny neck was the Heart of the Ocean, shining as beautifully as ever in its radiant sapphire glory. When they were no more than a few steps away, Clara stretched her arms out toward them, and Jack and Rose saw their reflections for the first time in the glass covering the face of the clock. The wrinkles of their old age had disappeared, and they were once again seventeen and eighteen years old. Jack was wearing the clothes he had worn when he and Clara had walked with Rose around the first-class decks, and Rose was wearing a beautiful white dress she had never seen before, but none of that even mattered. The only thing that mattered right now was that Clara was right in front of them.

Jack quickly scooped his sister up into his arms, and hugged her tightly. Tears were flowing down his face. Then he passed her to Rose. Rose was crying, too, and hugged Clara just as tightly as he had. Clara hugged them both back, tears flowing down her tiny face as well. When Rose finally released her from the hug, Jack pulled them both tightly into his chest, embracing the two most important people in his life. Rose and Clara both hugged him back as the audience around them smiled and applauded at the reunion between them. They were all together again in the heaven of the _Titanic,_ and Jack, Rose, and Clara knew that nothing would ever separate them again.


End file.
